


The Undertold Chronicles: short ficlets inspired by tumblr asks

by ShadeDuelist



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 56,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeDuelist/pseuds/ShadeDuelist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(exactly what it says on the tin.  For a week, I allowed people to send me a pairing/character + a word to prompt me to write short ficlets.  They were all posted on tumblr, and now I'll post them here!</p><p>Will contain:<br/>- sin (naturally)<br/>- floof (also naturally)<br/>- fontcest (SansxPapyrus), Papyton (Papyrus x Mettaton/Mettablook), Soriel (SansxToriel), Alphyne (AlphysxUndyne), and other pairings I cannot think of right now (the Asriel and Frisk fic is NOT a pairing!)<br/>- general Shade-Duelist levels of craziness (you have been warned ;3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pillow fort fun (Papyton floof)

“Oh, my my, Pappy, dear… that spaghetti was _wonderful_!”, Mettaton said, leisurely leaning back on the sofa.  They were at Papyrus’ house and Sans was at Grillby’s with Frisk and Toriel, from where they’d probably go back to Toriel’s home… that meant, Mettaton thought with an excited trill in his soul, they had the night all to themselves!  Oh, the possibilities…

“NYEH HEH!  I AM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT, METTATON!!  I WORKED HARD TO MAKE IT EXTRA PERFECT JUST FOR YOU, MY WONDERFUL BOTFRIEND!”  Papyrus was just washing the dishes in the kitchen.  Acting on impulse, Mettaton walked over to his bonefriend and wrapped his arms around his skeletal waist (well, whatever passed for a skeleton’s waist, at the least) only to find the object of his affections sigh.  “M-METTATON, NOT THAT I DO NOT APPRECIATE THE, UH, ATTENTION… B-BUT CHORES COME FIRST!  I… UH, M-MAYBE YOU CAN PICK OUT SOMETHING NICE TO WATCH ON THE TELEVISION?”, he suggested with his usual brand of bright, big smile, and Mettaton sighed, nodding.

“Okay, darling… what are you in the mood for?”

“SOMETHING… PLAYFUL YET ADVENTUROUS, L-LIKE A FLUFFY BUNNY STORY B-BUT TELEVISED!”, Papyrus instantly answered, blushing a little - Mettaton wondered why until he caught that his hands had descended to Papyrus’ hipbones, and he removed them with a guilty blush.

“Sorry, sugarbones… okay, I’m sure I can find something…”  The truth was, the robotic television star mused as he walked back to the sofa, that he _wouldn’t find anything like that_.  99,9% of the underground’s television shows were his, and he simply did not do ‘playful yet adventurous’, though it did sound very alluring now that he thought about it.  But there was something else he thought of, something fun and amusing that _might_ also turn his bonefriend’s mood from one kind of playful to the kind they could both appreciate in an empty house…  Quickly, he set to work, humming happily all the while…

**********************************************************************

“THERE, THAT IS ALL THE DIRTY DISHES TAKEN CARE OF!  METTATON?  OH, METTATON, SWEETBOT… H-HUH?”  Papyrus rounded the corner from the kitchen into the living room and he scarcely could believe his eyes.  The couch had _disappeared from sight_ in favor of a construction of blankets, pillows, and _was that his mattress propped up by some couch pillows_?  “METTATON?”

“In here, sweetie!”, came the call, and Papyrus quickly crouched down to where two of the sheets parted and Mettaton’s face appeared.  “Come on, enter my fortress of comfort and warmth, gorgeous, it has room for one more…”  Getting on his hands and feet, Papyrus crawled towards the blankets, pushing them aside very carefully.  Mettaton was there, having thrown his duvet over the ground to keep things soft while laying on a few pillows.  Next to him, a similar configuration was laid out - the robot hadn’t been kidding when he’d said there was room for one more.  “…Well, the television turned out to not have anything to your taste, so I thought, why not make a playful and adventurous story of our own to pass the night with?”

“NYEH… YOU MEAN LIKE… A PLAY?”, Papyrus asked softly, and Mettaton nodded.

“I mean _exactly_ like a play…  Or, well, a little bit like a play, because there’s things that you don’t see in plays.  Like the brave knight finally taking the princess home again?”  Mettaton’s wink looked like it would be completely lost on Papyrus for a second - the robot knew how oblivious his bonefriend could get, after all - but then Papyrus nodded and slowly and carefully crawled inside the blanket-and-pillow fortress and half-lay next to him.

“NYEH, OH PRINCE METTATON… I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HOME TO YOUR KINGDOM OF WARMTH AND COMFORT AGAIN!  MUST OUR WAYS PART NOW?”

“I hope they do not, my brave and handsome knight, sir Papyrus…  Your help against the dragon was much appreciated, and should be properly rewarded…  What riches can I give you?”  Mettaton very carefully snuck one arm around Papyrus, his hand almost casually brushing over the back of his spine through his ‘COOL DUDE’ shirt, sending a light shiver up his skeletal bonefriend that only served to make him more eager.  This was still light and easy and playful-yet-adventurous… and Papyrus seemed to agree, to match his mood.

“I… MUST ADMIT, OH PRINCE METTATON, THAT RICHES SOUND APPEALING!  BUT THERE IS ONLY ONE TREASURE I COULD TRULY BE SATISFIED WITH, N-NYEH…”  Papyrus’ fingers very lightly brushed his chest chassis, and now Mettaton was the one that lightly trembled at the touch, exhaling softly but shakily.  There was a certain tension in the air, and it definitely wasn’t static electricity…

“Oh, and what, pray tell, could that treasure be?  Your help is worth _everything_ to me, brave and handsome sir Papyrus… name your price and you’ll have it.”  They were so close they would breathe in each other’s exhales if either of them needed to breathe; Mettaton could feel the faintest sparkles of magic itch just below the surface of his body, eager to reach out to the skeleton he had given his affections to, eager for his answer, eager-

“I COULD ONLY BE SATISFIED WITH Y-YOU, PRINCE METTATON…”  It was too much to bear, and silicone lips met teeth in a light yet passionate kiss that finally pulled their mutual magic out of hiding.  It swirled around them in pinpricks of inky blue and bright pink, turning their blanket fort into a shimmering cave of solitude and proximity.  Yet, true to his statement, Papyrus didn’t deepen their kiss, speaking as soon as they detached again.  “O-ONLY THIS TREASURE… IS WORTH ANYTHING TO ME… MY DEAREST PRINCE M-METTATON…”  The blush on his face was worth _millions_ to the robotic star, as was the sparkle of magic barely blossoming up from his soul and manifesting in his gaze and his fingertips.  Magic, he added, that he was matching without a second thought.

“Oh, but my brave knight… didn’t you know?   _I am already yours…♥”_ , Mettaton whispered, leaning their foreheads together while very lightly caressing Papyrus’ spine again, and Papyrus’ only answer was to wrap his bony arms around him and hold him close.  “Mmm, Papyrus, this is all I could ever need… your strong embrace, your loving attentions…”

“I… M-ME TOO, METTATON… YOU ARE ALL I NEED…”  Papyrus’ fingers smoothed over his waist and side and then back to his chest, prompting a melodious sigh from the robot at the feel of the trickle of magic that soaked his form in their wake.  He matched the gesture, his own gloved fingertips sparkling a light, almost shimmering pink as he traced them over Papyrus’ bones through his ‘COOL DUDE’ shirt.  It was light and loving, and it was making Mettaton’s needy, greedy soul ache for more…  “…A-AND… I NEED IT ALL, METTATON…”

“Oh, _Pappy…”_ , Mettaton whispered out, leaning in for another kiss, when suddenly-

“Uncle Pappy, uncle Metta!!”

The fort _imploded_ and the mattress toppled over the two of them, as well as the slight, warm, fleshy form that had finally upset the precarious balance of cushions and blankets.  Instantly, the heat the two had gathered dissipated, magic flickering back to the depths of their being in a soul’s flutter to be replaced by another warm and infinitely more light feeling.

“FRISK!!  I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE COMING OVER!!”

“Dunkle Sans said it was okay for me to stay over!  He and mama Toriel wanted to stay at Grillby’s a little longer but it’s my bedtime…  O-oh!”, the child then gasped, looking between Mettaton and Papyrus, and most specifically at Papyrus’ ‘secret cool outfit’ and the way the two of them still had their arms around one another.  “Oh, you’re wearing your dating outfit!  W-were you and uncle Metta having a date, uncle Pappy?”

“W-WHY YES… BUT NOT TO WORRY!  THE IMPORTANT FOOD PART WAS ALREADY OVER, WE WERE JUST, UH… R-RELAXING A LITTLE!”

“Were you… _cuddling_?!”, Frisk asked slyly, grinning; Papyrus blushed and looked away with a soft ‘NYEH’, but Mettaton spoke up clearly to the little human the entire underground had come to love so much.

“Why, yes - but there’s _always_ room for your determined little soul, Frisk darling!!”, Mettaton added, keeping one arm around Papyrus but wrapping the other gently around Frisk’s shoulders.  Papyrus looked on and then mirrored the gesture, smiling happily.

“NYEH!  TINY HUMAN, FEAR NOT!  THE BLANKET FORTRESS HAS FALLEN, BUT OUR FRIENDSHIP WILL NEVER EVEN BE SHAKEN!  NOW… SINCE IT IS YOUR BEDTIME AND WE HAVE ALL OF THE MATERIAL WE NEED HERE… WHY DON’T WE ALL HAVE BEDTIME?!”

“Oh, nice idea, Pappy!”, Mettaton said, and the three of them set out to restore some semblance of order to the living room.  Mettaton took care to brush his hands over Papyrus’ often, getting rewarded by a few very light and subtle caresses from his bonefriend.

‘ _we can always finish what we started some other time, right?’_

_‘NYEH HEH… WE CAN MOST CERTAINLY…’_


	2. After the tears (Grillster floof)

_‘S-she’s gone... she’s really gone...  I can’t believe... the monster of my dreams is... is d-dust now...’_ Grillby wiped away some solidifying tears from his cheeks as he looked at his friend, sitting in the empty bar, magic glowing around him only dimly, the magical hands he used for speaking translucent and the sound of them soft and low, and above all emotional.  The funeral had gone by as well as anyone could expect - Fuku had minded little Sans and Papyrus, leaving him and Gaster free to hold the funeral and scatter the doctor’s wife over her favorite object.   _‘...Grillby, dear friend... does it ever... fade?’_

“... ... ...I... do not know, Gaster...”, Grillby admitted, looking at his hands.  “...Fire elementals... and all elementals in general, I believe... we do not need... ... ...”  He fell silent again - though ‘silent’ was maybe not the correct term to describe his slightly ashamed blush and the corresponding loud crackling of the flames of his chest, trying their best to leak out from underneath his fireproof shirt.  The truth was that elementals didn’t need significant others: Grillby hadn’t had a wife.  Fuku, his daughter, was... born from the Core just like he had been.  Gaster realized too, because he shook his head with a soft, melodious sigh before speaking again.

_‘...Elementals have a different way...  I... sorry to upset you, Grillby... but you must have had someone once...’_

“... ... ... ... ...”  Grillby looked at his friend, who looked back with such vulnerability and openness in his eyes, and he spoke softly and slowly, his voice barely a whisper over the soft sputter of his flames.  “...Once.  A very long time ago.  She... was young, and vibrant. ... ...Our happiness was an odd one... she... she was a human.  I had to... take on an aethereal form j-just to... kiss her...”  Memories resurfaced, buried deep and far away: light laughter, a rosy blush, eyes filled with light and joy, and soft, creamy skin under his touch... he sighed deeply and bowed his head, feeling his head-flames flare up in a fiery blush.  “... ...She was a fire-dancer.  Born with a fire in her heart... in love with a man of flames... and... ... she never lost that ember... even in death... She was... ...I cremated her.  Scattered her ashes in the evening breeze... her final dance with the sun.”

 _‘...I... again, Grillby, I am sorry to upset you...’_ , Gaster said softly, another tear leaking from his eyesocket, and now Grillby didn’t hesitate to wipe the small speck of water away, the gesture soothing and tender.  His eyes locked onto Gaster’s as he spoke.

“...Do not be sorry, Gaster, dear Gaster... it is... ...it is the way of all things: the endless cycle.  Birth, decay, rebirth.  An eternal turning.  ... ...I believe that she... rose to dance among the stars... just as I believe that your dear wife is now... up there, with all the others... still watching... still waiting... to be reborn into your arms once more...”

_‘Thank you, Grillby...  You always know what to say... you truly are a great man...’_

“... ... ... Only to you, dear Gaster...”, Grillby said, smiling softly and getting back up.  “...So, perhaps we should go now...”

 _‘Yes, Sans has a tendency to-’_ Whether it was Gaster’s mournful sigh, his pained expression, or just simply because the mood felt right, Grillby didn’t really know, but he found himself embracing his friend, pulling him close and kissing the corner of his mouth, halting the whisper-like flow of words from his magical hands and prompting the man’s eyesockets to widen.   _‘G-grillby... what...?’_

“...It... ... ...Gaster.  Never forget that I am here.  The next few months will be tough, with your job and your two young sons... but never forget that I am here to help you.  Whatever you need... do not hesitate to ask it.  ...Even if it is just... a kiss you need...”  The fire elemental looked at his hands again, nervously wringing them.  He and Gaster had a history together - as friends, and as more than friends, even before the Royal Scientist had had sons, or a wife, or even the all-important job that he had.  They’d been friends for ages, and lovers for only a little less long; yet still, each time he kissed the other man, it felt like the very first time they ever kissed.  The same, apparently, was true for Gaster: his friend blushed a soft indigo and nervously wrung his hands before reaching slowly across the table and grabbing Grillby’s hands.

_‘...Your kisses... are not a slight thing...’_

“... ... ...Come on.  It’s getting late, and your boys will be cranky.”, Grillby said, unable to voice an answer to those reverently-spoken words of his friend’s, but on the inside he could feel and hear his chest-flames rampage again, pressing against the confines of his shirt once more.  But when he got up and pulled gently on Gaster’s hand, he found that his fingertips itched to caress that soft, bone-like hand of his friend’s, and the warm hum that Gaster gave before getting up and following him showed him that no answers were needed.

For either of them.


	3. Skele-snooze button (Underswap fontcest floof fic)

“…mmmn, bro?”  It was a rarity - well, it was actually closer to a miracle - that Papyrus woke up before his brother, but his bony eyelids lifted first and he was the first of the two skelebrothers to greet the new day.  “bro… ‘s morning… shouldn’t you get up?”

“MWEH… J-JUST A BIT LONGER… I WAS HAVING SUCH A NICE WARM DREAM…”, Sans loudly complained, still half-asleep as evidenced by his even breathing the next second.  Papyrus chuckled, stifling the sound by nuzzling his pillow before turning around to face his brother, looking him over.  The both of them were in Sans’ ‘ULTRA-SWEET MOTORCYCLE RACER BED’, probably his brother’s least-used part of the house with all of his energy and seemingly endless supply of tasks and chores and duties.  Papyrus had had a nightmare somewhere during the night, something he didn’t even properly remember anymore, and to calm him down, Sans had made room in his bed and had hugged him as tightly as he possibly could.  During the night, the hold had loosened and then ended in favor of laying on his other side, but now he was back to facing Papyrus, and that gave the youngest of the two skeletal brothers a chance to properly look over the only monster to ever hold his heart.

Sans looked peaceful as he snoozed away: eyes closed, his perpetual smile more relaxed, his big-boned body comfortably wrapped in bright blue flannel pyjamas with the corresponding nightcap laying next to the bed…  His brother’s room looked like an explosion of blue and white, but now, seeing his brother’s off-white bones wrapped in the icy blue nightwear, Papyrus understood why.  It was his brother’s color.  Bright blue for his bright soul, for his unfailing light and cheer, for his neverending patience with others - with _him_ first and foremost…  His own darker blue seemed almost black in comparison at times…

“…sansy… we should get out of this bed, you got duties-”, Papyrus tried again, prompting another annoyed huff from his older brother and a slightly slurry string of protests.

“MMNOOO, N-NO DUTIES THIS MORNING… J-JUST A LITTLE LONGER, PAPYRUS… B-BROTHER…”  Papyrus would all too happily oblige.  Wrap an arm around Sans’ flannel-clad body, snuggle up to him, clink their teeth together gently and lovingly in a skeleton kiss, enjoy his proximity…  The only problem with that was that he _knew_ Sans had training with Alphys scheduled as soon as the Underground was fully awake, and he could already hear people going to their jobs outside.

“ah, c’mon, bro-”  He had already turned back around, ready to get out of the bed when suddenly, he felt Sans’ bony arm wrap around his ribcage, pressing his spine right against his brother’s sternum and causing a wave of warmth to erupt from the touch.  Papyrus, as usual, only wore his shorts to bed, and the feeling of flannel against his bare spine made him breathe out in surprise.  “sansy…”

“OH, JUST A LITTLE LONGER? PLEASE?”, Sans pleaded, and Papyrus shrugged, turning back around to look right into his brother’s baby blue irises.

“…bro… snoozin’ doesn’t count when you’re wide awake…”, he said, negating his own words by wrapping an arm around his brother in turn, absent-mindedly smoothing his fingers over the flannel that stretched over his brother’s scapula, and Sans winked at him.

“I WILL NOT TELL A SOUL IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL.  NO ONE NEED KNOW WE DID NOT ACTUALLY OVERSLEEP.”

“sansy, you’re startin’ to sound like me… am i bein’… a _bed_ influence here?”, he joked, and Sans chuckled before he caught himself.

“MWEH, _BROTHER!_ DO NOT KILL THE MOOD WITH INCIDENTAL PUNS!”

“…you gonna give me a _bed_ time if i keep it up?”, Papyrus said cheekily, laughing even before the pillow hit his skull - and not oblivious to the soft laugh Sans gave, either.  He’d find an excuse to tell Alphys, he was sure.


	4. Cold feet, warm hands (Papyton floof)

“METTATON!!!  METTATON, WHERE ARE YOU?!”, Papyrus called out, walking through the winding hallways of the MTT Resort.  It was almost time for his favorite sexy rectangle - his favorite _non-bone person_ , he corrected - to perform for his first audience to include humans, and the robotic superstar was nowhere to be found.  It was odd, Papyrus thought, because Mettaton had told him about twenty times that he was very excited, that he couldn’t wait to be on stage and dazzle monsters and humans alike…  “METTA-”

A sob startled him, and he looked inside the slightly ajar door to see his favorite star standing there, tears leaking over his gorgeous facial chassis and then falling down onto the ground.

“M-METTATON?”

“P-papyrus!!”  Mettaton jumped, literally so, nearly hitting the lightbulb with his beautiful synthetic hair, turning away from the skeletal fighter.  “O-oh… oh no, darling, p-please… don’t…  I don’t want you to s-see me like this…”

“WHAT IS THE MATTER, METTATON, SWEETBOT?  WHY IS IT BAD FOR ME TO SEE YOU UPSET?”, Papyrus asked in confusion, prompting the robot to sigh and motion for Papyrus to step into the closet with him.

“…I… e-everyone always sees me as this… this confident superstar, this… this smart and sassy, and very sexy, robotic wonderbot… b-but… but what if the _humans_ don’t see me like that?  What if they _hate me_?  Papyrus, what if this ruins my entire image?”, the robot said, slowly growing more and more panicky - he didn’t need to breathe at all, but his chest was heaving and the sound of static from his speaker grew louder and louder… but then, Papyrus placed one bony hand on his arm and instantly, Mettaton wound down again.  “P-papyrus…?”

“METTATON, IF THE HUMANS DO NOT LIKE YOU… THEN THE MONSTERS WILL STILL ADORE YOU, NO MATTER WHAT!  BESIDES, NOT ALL MONSTERS WATCHED YOUR SHOWS - SO WOULD IT BE A LOSS IF NOT ALL HUMANS DO?  IF THERE ARE STILL HUMANS THAT CHOOSE NOT TO BE FANS?  I MEAN, IT WOULD BE VERY… STRANGE OF THEM NOT TO SEE YOUR CLEAR TALENT AND SEXINESS, BUT-”  Papyrus was busy brushing some tears that had decided to cling to Mettaton’s synthetic cheek when the robot pressed his lips against his teeth, and just like that the kind touch turned into a warmer, more loving caress.  “N-NYEH, YOU ARE PERFECT TO ME, METTATON, AND YOU ALWAYS WILL BE… AND I WILL NEVER CARE ABOUT WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS, SO WHY SHOULD YOU?”

“T-thank you, Papy, gorgeous… you _always_ know how to make me feel better…”

“MY PLEASURE!!”, Papyrus said, smiling down at his metallic love.  Seeing his usual radiance and inner fire back was enough to give him a grin Sans would be rightfully jealous of.  Then, however, he found Mettaton wrapping his arms around him.

“…If my internal clock does not deceive me, we still have about ten minutes before I need to get into my dressing room to get ready… and I do believe you didn’t _quite_ kiss me back properly just now, Papy, darling…”

“M-METTATON, I… Y-YOU SURPRISED ME!  I WILL KISS YOU BACK ALL THE MORE AND BETTER NOW!!”, Papyrus said, wrapping his skeletal arms around the robot in turn.


	5. Close the night (Grillster floof)

“... ... ...”  The bar was nearly empty apart from the figure in the far corner, sitting with a full glass of the finer spirits in front of him.  He’d been sitting like that for hours, not moving, not drinking, not speaking to any of the other patrons, just... sitting there, staring contemplatively at the glass.  Grillby sighed and walked around his bar, sitting down opposite the man.  “... ...Rough day?”

The man’s only response was to raise the glass to his lips and take a sip.

“... ...”  Grillby nodded, getting back up and wending his way to the bar, stopping by the two other patrons on his way over, wordlessly shaking them out of their drink-induced haze just enough for them to realize it was closing time, leaving them to stagger outside.  As soon as they’d gone, the fire elemental walked to the bar, pouring himself a glass of 180-proof liquor and walking back to the table he’d left before, sitting back down with a soft sigh like a hiss of steam.  “... ... ...Come on.”  For a while, the bar was deathly silent as the other man raised the glass to his lips again, but then, disembodied hands appeared and motioned, speech-sounds coming from him.

‘ _I... I don’t know how much longer... I can go on... like this, Grillby...’_

 _“... ..._ You are doing great-”, Grillby answered softly, only to get interrupted by the man again.

‘... _I am really not doing great... did you know... Sans got his hands on one of the Blaster units yesterday?  It... linked to him.  To him!  Sans is only five years old!  I coded them genetically to bond to no one but me!  And what’s worse, Papyrus has been up in arms about it ever since... not sleeping a wink anymore, crying constantly...’_ The man raised the glass to his lips again, but tears ran over his cheeks and the disembodied hands motioned faster and more messily as emotions entered his tone as well.  ‘ _Grillby... dear Grillby... I have been trying so hard to cope with the job, and the boys, and it... it feels like everything is slipping from my grasp...’_

For the first time that night, a sound came from the man: a soft, almost shame-filled sob.

“... ... ...”  Grillby reached over the table, grabbing one of the man’s hands - one of his _real_ hands, not the magically-conjured ones that did his speaking for him - and rubbed his thumb soothingly over the edges of the perfectly circular hole in the middle of it as he spoke in his usual soft-spoken way, though his tone was warmer than usual.  “...Gaster.  You are not failing... you are not messing up... but... you are just a monster... not one of your machines...”

‘ _I sometimes wish I could be...’_ , the man admitted, prompting Grillby’s head-flames to crackle softly and a soft chuckle escaping the bartender a second later.

“... heh... ...Gaster... you love the boys... you love your job, and you are amazingly good at it...  You... are the underground’s greatest bringer of hope... with your research...”  When the other man didn’t respond, his hands faltering, Grillby smiled and entwined his fingers with the man’s.  “... ...you certainly bring me hope, Gaster...”  Finally, the man relented and answered in his usual way.

‘ _Alright, Grillby... maybe I am just being gloomy... Could I... would it impose if I-?’_

“... ... ... You never impose.  Stay.”, Grillby said, getting up at the same time as his friend did, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.  Instantly, Gaster turned to him and leaned into him, nuzzling his cheek for a second.  “...The boys are being taken care of by Alphys then?”

‘ _She was... very eager for the opportunity...  She loves the lab...  And Fuku?’_

“...She admires you, you know that...  ... ... ...So, will you stay?”

 _‘You are very persistent, Grillby...’_ , Gaster admitted with a soft smile that wasn’t lost on the fire elemental, and the scientist’s magic-formed hands disappeared, leaving only his actual hands, one of which rested on Grillby’s shoulder loosely.   _‘...Teach me... how you guard that unfailing optimism of yours... despite all the worries you must undoubtedly have about Fuku, despite all the trouble you get to hear here from your patrons... and me...’_

“... ...I’ll teach you something better... Gaster...  I will teach you... how to let go...”

Grillby could’ve sworn he heard a chuckle from the scientist, but he couldn’t be certain it wasn’t his own soft held-back laugh.


	6. Get wasted (Papyton silliness and floof)

“s-sooooo…”  Papyrus wondered, in a moment of clarity in between rounds, how he’d ever allowed himself to go to one of Sans’ performances with Mettaton.  It had been the first of a chain of bad decisions which had ended them there, at Grillby’s; Sans was holding a bottle of ketchup like it was the water of life, Mettaton held a delicate stemmed glass of refined oils that Grillby had very carefully poured for him, and he… had allowed the bartender to seduce him into drinking tomato vodka shots claiming it tasted just like spaghetti sauce.  And every time he complained…  Papyrus found himself downing another shot just to stave off his headache for an hour longer, knowing full well that he was only going to make the next morning worse.  “…s-sooo… what’ssh it taste like?  t-the oil, i means…”

“SANS, YOU WANNA KNOW HOW IT TASTES, DRINK IT YERS-S-SELF… D-DON’T MOOCH OFF MY H-HANDSOME SEXY B-BOTFRIEND-”

“ _O-oh *hic* Papyrus… baby… i-it’s okay, hmmhmmhmm…”_ Then again, Papyrus mused, blushing fiercely as Mettaton snaked his arms around his chest to pull him in for a drunk hug, there were worse things in the world than being inebriated.  “It tastes… h-heh… like champagne does to humans - there, h-how’s *hic* that for an answer, Sansy-boy?”

“’e-eyyyy… mettaton, d-do the world a favor an’ don’t call me ‘saaaaanssszzy-b-boy’… s- d-dammmmn… h-hey grillbz, b-buddy, pal, c-chummy… b-bread-slice-”  Papyrus burst out laughing at that.

“DON’T YA MEAN HOME-SLICE?”

“nah, bread slice… s-ssheein’ how i’m toasted…”

“Oh!”, Mettaton gasped, putting one hand over his chest - or, at least, that was the idea, Papyrus thought, but the hand ended up over _his_ chest instead - “W-we haven’t even toasted yet!!  G-grillby  *hic* three glasses of your finest m-most… heh heh… e-extravagant *hic* liquor!”

“i don’t do g-glitssshy liquors-”, Sans tried to protest, and Papyrus glared at him.

“M-MY BOTSOME HANDFRIEND- W-WAIT, MY HOTFUL AND DELIGHT BOTFRIEND T-TREATS YAH TO A DRINK A-AND Y'TURN IT DOWN?!  W-WHERE’S YOUR MANNERS B-BRO?!”

“think i l-lefts ‘em in t-that bottle’a ketchup grillbsh j-jushhh cleared away.”, Sans replied, and Papyrus snorted, instead raising his glass as Grillby handed it to him.  The liquor inside was pink and glittery, and Sans looked at it with far less disgust than he would while sober before shrugging and raising it as well.  “s-soooo, what’re we toastin’, metta?”

“W-we’re *hic* toasting… t-to ourselves!”  Mettaton poured in the liquor unsubtly and smacked his lips, making Papyrus’ head spin.

“OH, M-METTATON… ‘S ISN’T THE LIQUOR SPEAKING, BUT YOU ARE  _SOOOOO FIIIIINE_ …”

“*hic* oh, _darling… y-you’re fine, too, my sweet su-sugarskull… mmmhmhmhm…”_ , the robot said loudly, and Papyrus found himself grinning like a fool from the compliment.  Sans, however, _had_ to comment.

“h-hey, an’ ‘nother th-thing?  you b-better make each other h-happy happy happy… ‘causssh i-if any of you cry i’m gonna h-have to give the other a real b-bad time…”

“Bedtime?  N-*hic*-noooo, I’m not ready yet!”  Sans laughed loudly at that, and Papyrus felt a happy haze settle over him, making the words slip out past his guard.

“M-METTA… SWEETBOT… THAT LIQUOR REMINDS ME… OF YOOOUUU…”

“Oh, hahaha, it _does_ , d-doesn’t *hic* i-it?”, Mettaton cooed out, lips right against his jaw, and Papyrus felt as close to heaven as he had felt in his entire life.

“oh, how so, bro?”

“WELL, ‘CAUSE… I CAN’T TELL _YOU_ THAT, B-BRO!  T-THAT’S ‘TWEEN ME AND MAH SWEET S-SEXYHEART METTATON!!”

…In hindsight, Papyrus had to admit that he’d been better off telling Sans that it had reminded him of Mettaton’s cooking show, because the damage those Gaster Blasters had done to his botfriend _and_ to Grillby’s bar could have easily been avoided that way.


	7. Will you, won't you... (Papyton floof)

The setting was perfect: Papyrus had finally gotten Sans out of the house for the entire evening - miss Toriel had been most obliging in allowing him to stay the night with her and Frisk - and he had a recipe for spaghetti that had been approved by Mettaton himself, which didn’t call for the tomatoes to be punched into submission or half the kitchen to be lit on fire.  He’d thrown Sans’ dirty sock into his room, he’d spent two hours cleaning up the couch (he had no idea where the white spots came from, and he groaned angrily at the red spots, but the pink and the inky spots got him to blush vehemently), and he had then made the food before heading up into the shower, having set the plates of spaghetti in the oven to keep them warm…

While he stood under the shower, he couldn’t help but feel giddy with excitement.  Because not only was it his and his botfriend’s anniversary, but it was also… a night neither he nor Mettaton would ever forget.  The small box on his dresser, with the gemstone bracelet that held both sapphires and rosequartz from the underground, would make sure of that.

He was going to ask The Big Question, the question that all the dating rulebooks said was the ultimate and final confirmation of a relationship… he was going to ask Mettaton to not just spend _some_ time with him but _all_ their time.  His entire being ached at the prospect of being sworn to the robot-monster, a sweet ache that nothing, not even the finest spaghetti in the world, could compare to.  Imagining his future with Mettaton was enough for the sweetest of visions after all!

“NYEH… THIS IS THE NIGHT… THIS IS THE NIGHT!  METTATON WILL NEVER EVER BE ABLE TO SAY NO TO ME!!”

When he’d entered the living room again, dressed in his finest clothes (approved by miss Toriel, who had joined him and Sans clothes-shopping on their last trip to the big city mall), his spirits sunk and all of his careful plans turned to wishful thinking in the blink of an eye.  A thick layer of smoke hung around, pouring from the kitchen.  The oven had been set too high and the spaghetti had burnt, _actually burnt_ , turning to ashes in the dishes… and the couch, which had still been slightly wet, was getting stained by the smoke as well… and his suit would probably smell like burnt tomatoes too!  There was no way he could have their date here - and there was no time left to make other arrangements!

So, he did what every self-respecting skeleton would do and cried.

****************************************************************************************

“N-NYOO HOO HOO… T-THANK YOU, METTATON, M-MY SWEETEST SUGARBOT…”, Papyrus said, smiling brightly at his botfriend and gaining an equally brilliant smile back.

“Ohohoho… Pappy, darling, it’s my pleasure… it really is fortunate Undyne came by to wish you luck on our anniversary date - the ladies were _ever_ so kind to give us the entire house to ourselves!!”

“I THINK THEY SECRETLY ENJOYED THE EXCUSE TO SPEND THEIR EVENING TOGETHER!”, Papyrus said with a superfluous wink at Mettaton, nevertheless getting a wink back.

“Oh, you’re ever so right, sugarbones… but, well, they do make a  _fine_ couple-”

“NOT AS FINE AS US, THOUGH?”, the skeleton tried hopefully, looking up at Mettaton from his position on the ground, and getting the answer he’d hoped for after a lengthy and indulgent kiss.

“Not even _half_ as fine as us, of course, Pappy, gorgeous! ~♥”  A silence settled over them, and Papyrus could feel the box with the bracelet, which he’d brought along to Undyne’s even if he thought he could never ask such an important question without the proper mood!  “Pappy… maybe… come sit next to me?”, Mettaton suddenly asked, and Papyrus nodded.

“WHY OF COURSE, MY DELIGHTFUL METTATON!  …AFTER ALL, HOW CAN WE PROPERLY HAVE OUR P-PASSIONATE KISSING SESSIONS LIKE THIS?”  However, when he sat down, instead of instantly pressing him against the sofa as per usual, Mettaton just… grasped his ungloved hand gently in his own, and looked at him warmly.  That was also enough, Papyrus admitted.  “N-NYEH, IT’S OKAY IF YOU DO NOT FEEL LIKE-”

“Papyrus, darling… listen, I… these past weeks and months with you have been… the most wonderful time of my life.  I love you, dearly - deeply and passionately so, my handsome skeleton… and… w-well, I  _had_ hoped we’d have a proper date in _your_ house and not… instant noodles and bad anime in Undyne’s new home…”, he said, motioning around them and causing Papyrus to blush again, remembering how his careful plans had been ruined by one little mishap.  Then, however, Mettaton squeezed his hand a little more and continued speaking in a warm, hesitant tone: “P-papyrus, I… w-will you… be my _other half_?”  He clicked open a compartment in his chest and pulled out a bracelet similar to the one Papyrus had commissioned - almost identical, in fact - and looked at him hopefully, pleadingly…  _lovingly_ …  And it was in that moment Papyrus knew that nothing could be more perfect than instant noodles, bad anime, and kissing his botfriend - no, his _other half_ \- on his best friend’s couch.

“N-NYES!  …B-BUT ONLY… I-IF YOU’LL BE MINE IN RETURN…”, Papyrus admitted as he took out the box and showed Mettaton the identical bracelet, and after that everything was lost in a haze of kisses and glowing, bright love.

…Well, _almost_ everything.  He was quite sure he’d remember Undyne’s angry yells about making out with Mettaton on her couch for _years_ to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (XD the white spots are cheese GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER but okay the pink and the inky spots are what you'd expect ;3)


	8. Showing Chara(cter) (Underswap angst)

“HUMAN!  TAKE NO FURTHER STEP!!  YOU MUST ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES - A-AND DIE TO PAY FOR THEM!!”  He couldn’t take any more.  This human, with their light green striped shirt sprinkled with monster dust and their glinting knife... this human had taken all he had, all he held dear... all he had ever known...  This human had taken his world and turned it into their sick playground, twisted it into their _killing field_.  And one of the first of their victims had been the one monster that had meant everything.

Papyrus.

He still remembered how he’d stood at the edge of Snowdin, watching his brother talk to the human that had sent the residents of the small town running away to Hotlands or the Capitol.  He still remembered how his brother smiled his usual, casual smile talking to that small human, how he’d held out a hand in an offer of friendship...

He still had nightmares about the toy knife slicing his neck cleanly in between two vertebrae, severing his head from his torso and causing him to collapse in a heap.  He still had nightmares about the foot the human brought down on Papyrus’ head, ending his shocked words and scattering a cloud of dust around their form.

Thinking about Papyrus - his brother’s shock and disbelief that so mirrored his own - his resolve to see the human’s life ended for their wrongdoings grew again.  He gritted his teeth, smile gone from his face in favor of a solemn, grim expression as he conjured a long light blue bone with his magic, gripping it like Alphys had always gripped her axe - losing his mentor and greatest friend, another painful memory this wicked human had to pay for - and pointing it at the human, who shook.  Sans considered that it was fear that made them shake so much, and he inwardly grinned: if the human was scared of him, that’d make the fight easier.

“PREPARE YOURSELF!”

The human’s only reaction was to fall to the ground and cry, startling Sans.

“W-WHAT THE...?”

“N-no... no more... n-no more!  P-please, just... no...”  They weren’t just crying, they were weeping madly, tears streaming over their face, their entire body shaking with sobs and nervous shivers.  The knife dropped from their hands, and Sans instantly summoned up a wave of magic to push it far, far away from the human’s reach.  The swirl of glittering blue didn’t even seem to draw their attention: hiding their face in their hands, the human crumpled completely, pressing their entire body against the floor as they broke down.  “I... I d-did it to feel... t-to feel better... but I... I knew it was wrong... but I _c-couldn’t stop... I couldn’t stop m-my-s-self!!”_ , they sobbed, curling up into a ball on the floor.  “I c-couldn’t... once I’d started, it... it d-didn’t... didn’t feel better _at all_ , but... but h-how could I stop?  M-maybe after a while, it’d feel...  I d-don’t know... a-and the longer I did it, t-the more there was t-this... this little voice saying... s-saying _awful s-s-stuff_...!”

“HUMAN-”, Sans tried, only for them to sob loudly again and continue as though he hadn’t spoken.

“A-and Papyrus... I l-loved Papyrus!  H-he... he reminded me of... of _h-home_ , and of _friends_...  a-and I so desperately w-wa-wanted him t-to be my friend, but... but that little voice... s-said I sh-should _h-hu-hurt_ him t-too... and I d-did and I felt a-awful!  ...A-and all the others... and... oh, Sans...!”  The human now seemed to notice him at long last, but when they crawled over to him with a kind of desperation, Sans found himself hastily stepping back, not feeling at all comfortable with the situation.  This was the human that had killed almost all of the monsters in the Underground!  The human that had brutally slain Alphys, his mentor and closest friend, when she had protected that foolish kid!  The human that had _killed his brother in cold blood, when Papyrus had wanted nothing but to be their friend!!_ The story they’d spun about a ‘voice’ telling them to do what they did sounded awfully convenient...

“HUMAN, DO NOT-!!”, he started annoyedly, but the child themself seemed to recoil and looked up at him with a kind of look he’d seen on Papyrus all too often.  A broken look, a look of being at wit’s end...

The look of someone that had seen the worst of times...

“S-sans, I...  I d-did _everything wrong..._ I d-did everything wrong a-and I tried to fix it s-so many times but I c-c-couldn’t undo a-any of it anymore and  I k-know saying I’m sorry won’t... m-mean anything...  I _am_ sorry, s-so _so so so sorry_!  I c-came here t-to say that I’m sorry!  I... I c-can’t go back... and I can’t go on... s-so... j-just kill me, o-okay?!  Just... I c-can hear them... all the m-m-monsters I’ve...”  A sob ended their words, and the human whimpered, grabbing the bone that Sans still held in his hand and pressing it to their chest.  “...t-the monsters... a-all of them... they only want one thing... they want me dead.  T-they want to see me suffer...  E-every day it gets... every _second_... t-they get louder and louder... and I can’t t-think anymore... s-so please... I... j-just... just end t-this miserable...  I... I don’t want to go on anymore...”  The human sat there, the bone pushing against their chest, and Sans thought about pushing his magic further and piercing the human’s body.

However, with a wave of his free hand, he dissipated it, catching the human as they fell forward.

“...HUMAN!  YOU ARE... YOU... DID EVERYTHING WRONG-”

“ _...please kill me, Sans... p-please..._   I d-don’t deserve mercy...”, the human whimpered miserably, shying away from Sans’ touch even if gravity pushed them back into it a second later.  They were too feeble to get up again, their grief and exhaustion clearly having taken their toll, and Sans sighed.

“HUMAN... I TOLD YOU, DID I NOT, THAT YOU MUST ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES?  WELL, THEN... ANSWER FOR THEM.  WHICH VOICE WAS IT YOU MEAN... WHICH VOICE TOLD YOU TO HURT OTHERS TO MAKE YOUR OWN HURT GO AWAY?”

“...I... t-they called themselves... _Frisk_... s-said that in t-this world, you have to... h-hide yourself, and... and b-be how people expect you to be... fit into the mold... w-why bother trying to be peaceful if monsters attack you, e-expecting you to attack them?  W-why even _try_ to be peaceful _at all_?  T-they said... they said it’d be s-so much _easier_... t-that I wouldn’t get h-hurt myself if I d-did what they said, h-hurting, and killing... but... t-they were _wrong_!   _Wrong!!”_ , the human said loudly, the sound of their voice echoing through the empty Hall of Judgment, the echo making their following whisper nearly inaudible to Sans: “...it hurts even worse this way...”

“AND WHAT MADE YOU STOP LISTENING TO THIS FRISK VOICE?”, he asked, curiosity getting the better of him for a second, and the human sobbed again.

“...I... t-there was a flower out there t-that talked to me... t-that said it... had also done what I did... and I felt d-disgusted with it, and then I realized... _that f-flower was me!  I did a-all those h-horrible things..._ and b-because of what?  A voice w-without power?  I... j-just couldn’t shake that feeling, like m-my heart breaking and _t-turning to dust like all of those monsters!_ A-and suddenly... all the monsters... t-they said those things and they are right, I’m _horrible_ , I’m a _murderer_ , I... I... I d-don’t deserve my _life!!_   Sans, p-please...!”

“...HUMAN...”, Sans sighed, shaking his head.  That sounded an awful lot like what Papyrus had once told him while drunk enough to speak openly about his mental distress.  Sans had dealt with Papyrus’ emotional upheaval poorly, he found: in fact, one of the things that he regretted most after losing Papyrus was not having told his brother more often that he was loved and cared for, that he was good just the way he was, that he didn’t have to hide himself...  He wouldn’t make the same mistake with this human, he found himself thinking, taking a deep and steadying breath before turning to the human.  “HUMAN.  I WILL NOT KILL YOU, BUT I CANNOT LET YOU GO JUST LIKE THAT.  QUEEN TORIEL, UP AHEAD, WILL MOST CERTAINLY NOT SPARE YOU ANY MERCY!  AND YET... YOU SEEM GENUINELY SORRY... AND IF THAT FRISK VOICE REALLY DID SAY THOSE THINGS... THOSE PERSUASIVE THINGS...”  Suddenly, in a flash, he remembered something.  “HUMAN!  I MIGHT HAVE A SOLUTION!!  WHILE YOU WERE... UH, BUSY...  I HAD A TALK WITH DOCTOR UNDYNE!  SHE TOLD ME ABOUT... WELL, ALL OF THE STUFF THAT PAPYRUS HAD ONCE HELPED HER WITH... LIKE RESEARCH INTO HUMAN DETERMINATION, AND TIMELINES...  AND THE POWER TO SAVE!  SHE SAID THAT DEEP WITHIN EACH HUMAN HEART LIES A BOUNDLESS POWER!  THAT EVERY HUMAN HAS THE SOUL-STRENGTH TO TRY AGAIN AND DO BETTER!”

“...I... d-don’t know if I can...”, the human child said, but then they bit their lip and looked at Sans with a sparkle of something that he’d seen so often in Alphys’ eyes.  But where Alphys’ eyes had held a mere pinprick of it, the human’s eyes were lit up by it completely, and their voice changed as well, glowing with the power of that tenacity.  “...B-but... but I’ll try.  I’ll try so hard.  Even if it hurts to try again the _right_ way...”

“I BELIEVE YOU CAN DO IT, HUMAN!”, Sans said encouragingly, grinning and adding as an afterthought: “...AND I LOOK FORWARD TO SEEING HOW AMAZING YOU COULD BE AS A FRIEND!!”

“...Heh...”  The human chuckled cautiously, but the sound eased away the last remnant of tension from Sans’ mind, and he nodded.

“HUMAN!  TRY TO REACH INTO YOURSELF!  THERE IS ALWAYS A WAY TO TRY AGAIN!!”

“I... think I know how to do it!!”, the human answered, and the room around them suddenly started to fade from view, startling Sans.  He could feel something indistinct but grand pull at his soul as well, something that he instinctively understood he had to give into.  But he couldn’t give into it just yet.

“HUMAN!!  IF WE MEET AGAIN!  HOW WILL I KNOW YOU REMEMBER WHAT WE SAID HERE?!”, he asked - he found he had to shout to even get his voice to be _audible_ , because along with the room disappearing, a sound like a great storm had picked up around him and the human, who looked like they were being pulled apart and reassembled.  Their soul shone within them, however, and their answer sounded like a whisper right into the ears he didn’t have...

“ _My name is Chara.  And this time, I’ll hide behind that ridiculous planter Papyrus put next to his sentry station...”_

Then, the world fell into whiteness...

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“...’sup, bro?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT IS UP, BROTHER!!  IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED YOUR TRAPS!! YOU JUST LOAF AROUND AT YOUR STATION!!  WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!”  Sans stomped on the snowy ground as he glared at Papyrus, his younger brother towering over him as usual but still looking at least a little more meek as he answered.

“...just... watchin’ the flowers bloom on this potted plant.  you wanna take a look too?”  His brother motioned for the shrub that he’d put in the middle of the clearing in front of his sentry station for whatever insane reason - and as usual, there were _no flowers on it_ , so Sans groaned and crossed his arms, turning physically away from the pot.

“NO!! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT!! WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE!?! I WANT TO BE READY!!! I WILL BE THE ONE! I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN! THEN, I, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS... WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I SO LONG FOR! RESPECT... RECOGNITION... I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! PEOPLE WILL ASK, TO, BE MY, "FRIEND?" I WILL BE SHOWERED IN AFFECTION EVERY MORNING!”  His brother grinned and nodded.

“hmm... maybe lookin’ at this plant will help?”, Papyrus offered again, and Sans nearly berated his brother sharply again when he noticed something shifting behind the potted plant.

A faint memory from... somehow _before AND after this moment_... arose, and Sans hesitated for just a fraction of a moment before locking eyesockets with Papyrus again and lashing out at him with the verbal tirade he’d kept ready.

“PAPYRUS!!  YOU ARE NOT HELPING!! YOU LAZYBONES!! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AND SMOKE THOSE HORRIBLE CIGARETTES!! I SWEAR YOU ARE GETTING LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!!!”  As he and his brother spoke back and forth, Sans couldn’t help but feel relieved.  The human his brother was so obviously hiding from him... they would do better this time.  Maybe not perfect, but better.  And that would be enough for him.


	9. Nightmares (Asriel-Frisk angst/floof)

It always happened on Mondays, annoyingly enough.  Frisk would be sound asleep only to get woken up by loud, almost bleating cries from the next room, Asriel’s room, and they’d run in thinking the world was coming to an end only to find their close friend and stepbrother tossing and turning in his bed caught deep in another nightmare, magic radiating off him like light off the sun at high noon.  He channeled enough of it to burn the house down ten times over, even in his sleep… but one touch from Frisk calmed him down again and the rest of the night would be uneventful every single time.  Frisk appeared at their college classes the next morning a little bleary-eyed but none the worse for wear, and Asriel reported to his parents at the ‘palace’ five minutes late at the most.  The two of them kept it between them, sharing nothing of the nightmares…

…until one night.  Another Monday night, as usual, only this time Asriel’s cries weren’t incomprehensible.

“ _Chara, get away!!  P-put down the knife!!  Frisk, help, HELP HELP HEEEEEEEELP!!”_

 _“_ Asri’, I’m here, I’m here!”, Frisk cried out, charging from their own room into their stepbrother’s, stumbling in their haste to make it to his side, crawling over to him when they tripped and landed on their knees at the foot-end of his bed… only to have him push them away.

“ _No!!  You’re not Frisk!!  Go away!!  C-Chara, go away, go away!!  Don’t… don’t make that face!!  N-noooo…!”_ Instinctively, Frisk reached out again, but Asriel’s magic lashed out at them, leaving a great big burn-welt across their face, and they yelped loudly, moving backwards as hastily as they could on their hands and feet.  Fortunately, their pained cry woke Asriel up enough to allow him to finally recognize his sibling again.  “F-frisk?”

“Asri’, thank the stars!”, Frisk said, sobbing softly and moving over to him, grabbing his hand and then awkwardly hugging him from their sitting position on the cold hardwood floor of their small apartment.

“Frisk, what… your face…”, the boss-monster started, only for Frisk to firmly shake their head.

“Asriel, the most important thing is that you woke up-”  Still, when their brother and dearest friend allowed his magic to take on a green tinge and seep into their burnt, aching skin, they didn’t protest and halted for a second before picking up where they’d left off: “…the most important thing is that you woke up from that nightmare… and, uh, that this time I could hear what it was about.”

“I… always see _Chara_ again…  Always… t-that damned knife in their hand, that expression of cruel joy on their face…  I s-see them from above, from below…  I k-know I’m not supposed to talk about the resets anymore, but-”

“Asriel, don’t… don’t do this to yourself…”, Frisk said gently, getting up and sitting down on the side of the bed, their stepbrother moving over to make room for them to settle comfortably.  “…Chara… what was left of Chara’s personality is _gone_.  Alphys checked into it every single year, you know that, and she found nothing.  Your determination was burnt away when you used Chara’s human soul to come back to us… and Chara was burnt up along with it.  And they haven’t returned for _twelve years_ so far, so why would they return now?”

“…H-heh, I know… but still… those nightmares seem so _real_ every time…”

“Asri’.”  Frisk pulled in their stepbrother for a warm hug, ruffling his hair and the beginnings of a little beard in emulation of his father’s look in the process.  “Asriel, you know just as well as all of us do that positive dreams and hopes breed _a positive outcome_ , while nightmares only lead to sadness and pain.  What would you rather follow, a _memory_ in your nightmares that tries to hurt you… or the _real person_ that comforts you after those nightmares and encourages you?”, they asked smiling, and Asriel felt like the both of them were back in their striped sweaters, Frisk holding out their hand invitingly and telling him not to be afraid anymore, and he grinned.

“…I’ll follow _my best friend_  over a nightmare any day, Frisk.”


	10. Last stand (Underswap Papyton angst)

“P-Papyrus?  Papyrus… w-where… where are you…”  Mettablook floated around the empty halls of the monster kingdom’s castle, his voice echoing in the abandoned structure.  Doctor Undyne had told everyone to evacuate, to hide in the furthest and unexplored recesses of the cavern because they couldn’t escape to the surface, and Papyrus had been singularly focused in helping her.  The little pink ghost had never seen their bonefriend so… grim.  His expression had slumped from a relaxed, easy-going smile to a tired frown as he’d carried monsters to safety, reunited families, tried his hardest to spark hope in everyone’s soul when he was still smarting over Sans’ death.

Losing Sans…  The loss of the short skeleton had looked like just a footnote to the monster kingdom, regarded as less significant than losing Alphys the Almighty - especially to doctor Undyne, who had been deeply in love with the reptilian warrior and who hadn’t even had the luxury of a relationship like Mettablook and Papyrus had…  But Sans had been Papyrus’ sweet-hearted, caring, trusting brother, always ready to help and always there to offer positivity and cheer to the world, never without energy…  He’d been well-regarded in Snowdin, he’d been a dear friend and ‘obnoxious’ trainee to Alphys, an invaluable and devoted servant of Queen Toriel, who had decided to stay behind for reasons of her own, awaiting the arrival of the human child in her throne room.  Sans had meant something to so many monsters - and most of all, of course, to Papyrus, who hadn’t been by Mettablook’s side when they woke up from their uneasy slumber.

“P-papyrus?  I h-hear… blasts a-and shouting… i-is that y-you?  O-oh please… d-don’t… t-the human will be he-here soon…  P-papyrus?  S-sweetbones… a-are you there?”, Mettablook asked, floating towards the Hall of Judgment, the heavy door of it closed.  Phasing through it, the ghost turned towards the hall itself - and instantly wished that they hadn’t.

They’d found Papyrus.

The aberrant human child that was responsible for all the hurt and pain throughout the underground was wildly dodging bone attacks - _Papyrus’_ bone attacks, the ones _Sans_ had taught him, Mettablook realized - and great white floating skulls that blasted beams of bright energy at the human.  The attack was brutal and certainly seemed inescapable to Mettablook: great arrays of bones appearing from walls and floor and ceiling seconds after the human had been slammed into them by use of the skeleton-family secret, the ‘blue attack’, more of those mysterious and gruesome-looking blasters, and then Papyrus resorted to just tossing the human around… and…

Was Papyrus slowing down?  Breathing hard, even if he didn’t need to breathe?  Was his magic really powering down?  After a while, he even lost his grip on the human’s soul, and the child laughed loudly, prompting Papyrus to shake his head, droplets of liquid flecking from his skull at the motion.

“h-heh… you’re really… somethin’ else, tyke…  y-you really wanna get your way, end our world, huh?  oh, i know, i see it in your eyes… w-well, then you’d better survive my last attack… _haahh_ , h-here goes nothin’”  Mettablook couldn’t imagine how Papyrus’ last attack could be any better than the one they’d just borne witness to, but then… nothing happened.  The human blinked and looked around, clearly just as startled as them to see no bones or blasters or feel the familiar pull on their soul.

“W-what?  What the hell is this?!”, they shouted, only for Papyrus to shrug.

“my last attack.  literally nothin’.  that’s the way to end your spiel, tyke - if i don’t attack, you don’t get your turn.  if you don’t get your turn, you don’t get to proceed.  i’m keepin’ you here, forever - or until you grow bored and reset.  go ahead…”  Reset?  What was Papyrus talking about?  “…you can end it now.  reach for that reset button, li’l buddy…”  Papyrus sighed, shaking his head again, his shoulders slumping.  “…yeah, just reset - save us _both_ the trouble, tyke…”  His breathing was easing again, his entire body slouching - he had to be fatigued, Mettablook realized, drifting over to Papyrus invisibly to gently caress his shoulder.

“ _P-papyrus… hey, it’s okay, you can rest… they can’t do anything, you trapped them, y-you did it…”_ , the ghost whispered to his lover, prompting a soft chuckle from him as his eyes closed.  He probably thought he was imagining their presence, Mettablook thought, turning back to the door to go tell the queen…

A pained grunt alerted Mettablook right as they were about to phase through the doorway: turning back, they saw the human push their body against the magical limits of the ‘battlefield’, and… and _pushing the entire battlefield towards Papyrus’ form…_ They would attack him with his guard down, he’d be defenseless!

“ _N-NO!!”_ Mettablook floated forward, but it was already too late.  The human child attacked, and Papyrus jumped to the side, clearly not as deep asleep as he’d looked to be at first glance, but then the child turned around and attacked a second time, hitting the tall skeleton right across the chest.  A bright but semi-translucent liquid coated the blade’s edge, leaking from Papyrus’ hoodie, and the child laughed maliciously, but Mettablook couldn’t care anymore about the child or the fact that their ominous purpose was now unhindered.  “P-p-papyrus… n-no… no, no, no _no no no no no…”_ , they wept miserably as they floated back towards their lover, wrapping their ghostly and fully visible body around them in a full-bodied hug that Papyrus answered without a second thought.

“d-damn it… g-guess that’s me done for…  m-metta, don’t… don’t look, babe…”

“ _P-papyrus…!”_ , the ghost whimpered, kissing him anywhere they could manage - his teeth, the top of his skull, his scapula, his neck vertebrae - even as he toppled to his knees, strength rapidly failing him.  “P-please, no… no, d-don’t… don’t… don’t leave me…  I… l-life without you… I c-can’t do that, Papyrus, s-sugarbones, I s-s-simply c-can’t…!”

“h-heh… don’t worry, metta… ‘m goin’ to sansy…  w-we’re both… goin’ to sansy…  j-jus’ h-hold me…”  Slowly, Papyrus’ body turned to dust, and Mettaton’s wails sounded in the empty hall, drowning out the sound of vile laughter from the throne room, drowning out the cries of the other monsters… until finally, those wails quieted and the fragments of Mettaton’s soul blew away on the blackest of winds along with the remnants of his lover’s body, mingling their essences one last time…

 

_* So the ghost died of a broken heart… ha ha, how fitting…_

_* I guess that’s the last one.  Time for this pathetic world to END!_

[Originally posted by ask-thesoullessprince](https://tmblr.co/ZhMK1j1_xFwHw)


	11. High and mighty (Underswap Soriel sin)

“Your Royal Highness, Sans the Magnificent from Snowdin has, like, reported for his weekly state of affairs, as you requested!! He’s waiting for you and stuff...”, RG04 said; the sound of her voice had Toriel looking up from the book she’d been reading. A smile instantly formed on her face at the announcement that her Royal Companion - which was basically a euphemism for being her lover - was back for their weekly appointment. If she was honest, Sans’ visits were what she looked forward to every week: the short skeleton’s natural grace and charm, his innate energy and optimism, and the neverending tenderness and love he bestowed upon her… they made the lonely and tedious hours race, and they made the time with him all the more precious. What was more, his words lent an extra shine to the kingdom: his praise and admiration for the Royal Guards, his obvious affection for the monsters populating Snowdin, Waterfall and Hotland… Getting up from the throne, she spoke calmly to the Royal Guard clad from head to toe in heavy armor.

“Thank you, Catricia - you may return to Bratalie and enjoy a night off together. Sans will take over your guard duties for the night, as usual.”

“Uh… like, your wish is my command and stuff, Your Royal Highness Lady Toriel, but, like, sir Sans wasn’t looking too good? If you, uh, need me or Bratty and stuff-”

“Was Sans not feeling well?”, Toriel asked, frowning in an instant, glee replaced with worry in a single flutter of her soul. The guard merely shrugged.

“Well, he was kind of… like, sweating? And nervous? But, uh, he’s, like, always nervous, so I wasn’t upset and stuff… and the walk here from Snowdin is a long one, and the Hotlands are, like, hot, so…”

“Take the night off, Catricia, it’ll be okay. But please excuse me now.”, Toriel said calmly, though on the inside her soul ached thinking of Sans, the monster she’d given her heart to, with an illness, pushing himself to come to her to report despite the fever… Her footsteps were a little quicker than usual when she went back to the palace to meet Sans, finding the slight skeleton sitting on the staircase leading up into the living area of the palace.

Instantly, she knew that he wasn’t feeling well at all. When he got up, his legs shook badly enough to make all of his bones creak like a withered tree in a storm; his pupils were wide, and his entire skull was covered in translucent blue sweat; he seemed sluggish as he took a step over to her. There was no question about it, the Magnificent Sans wasn’t feeling energetic as usual.

“Q-QUEEN TORIEL… I…”, he started, stumbling over his words, and Toriel found herself walking forward to meet him. However, before she could make it to his side, he groaned, his pupils disappeared in a soul’s flutter, and his slight body slumped forward, bones _still_ rattling.

“Sans!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As night fell, Toriel found herself painfully afraid. Sans had not regained consciousness yet, after four hours of laying passed out in her bed. She should be asleep, by his side, but she found her mind in turmoil, worrying what could be wrong with him. She’d pondered and pondered, going over all usual monster diseases in her mind. Yellow marrow fever, squits, spotted cough, even Gaster syndrome… all of them were nowhere near severe enough to keep a monster unconscious for this long. Sighing, she decided on going for a walk over the long walkway leading up to the palace, in another futile attempt to clear her head.

She found herself considering her relationship with Sans. Ever since he’d appeared before her at her first days of Royal Auditions, all bright energy and charm, she’d been lost to him. He’d been very innocent at first, to the point of being oblivious to her advances, but he’d warmed up to the concept of making love to her with a speed that had taken her by surprise, and his first few visits had been incredibly shy but passionate. The shyness went away after a month or two, but the passion had never abated. Only one look from him was enough to set her ablaze at times, and when he ran his bony fingers over her bare fur, she couldn’t help but yearn for him all the more fiercely…

A blush crept up on her features when the unbidden thought struck her that normally, she and Sans would be wrapped up in each other by that time, breathless and sweaty, finding their private heaven. It was no use pretending she didn’t yearn for him, not when she could feel a part of her soul shiver at the thought of kissing him, holding him, hearing him gasp her name… Magic leapt forth from her, sparkling around her entire body, and her soul fluttered, pushing against her chest from the inside while a mellow wave of warmth undulated forth from it to her nethers, settling there...

“Oh, really… this is very unbecoming…”, she sighed out, shaking her head and willing her magic back down, below the surface, wishing she could do the same for the warm and slightly beckoning sensation in her loins. Then, when her unruly mind tried to escape her iron grasp to go into exactly what she longed for from the slight skeleton a second time, she firmly set her foot down and took her cellphone from her pocket. If she wanted _anything_ to come from Sans’ visit to her, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to invite her Royal Scientist over. Undyne was one of her friends, albeit ‘friendship’ wasn’t the word the ichthyan herself would use, thinking it was impossible to be friends with one’s ruler: she had been carefully honest when Toriel had first thought out her innovative way to keep the skeleton that had captured her fancy close to her, and she was the only one that dared contradict the queen in meetings. Not to mention she was the Royal Scientist for a very good reason: she would know what was wrong with her lover and she’d know exactly what to do to get him healed up, if not for his current visit then for his week’s worth of duties and his next visit! As quickly as her large fingers admitted, she dialled Undyne’s number and then pressed ‘call’, waiting for Undyne to pick up, which was usually in two rings… but now, she got the generic voicemail message from the UnderTel operator.

“ _Your correspondent is not answering, please-” *CLICK*_ Sighing softly, Toriel shook her head, debating whether or not to try calling again. However, in the end her dilemma was decided for her, when the fish-like monster called her back.

“ _H-hello? I, u-uh… sorry that I didn’t an-answer right away, q-queen Toriel, b-but I’m over at Alphys’ h-house watching anime-”_

“Tonight I’m not calling as you ruler but as your friend, Undyne - and you aren’t at your lab?”, she asked, nonplussed. Getting the scientist out of her home-and-workplace was tantamount to trying to break the barrier with a single monster’s power, and she had long since given up trying to get Undyne to stay over in the guest room in the palace. However, Alphys was a special case, of course: Undyne was deeply in love with the fierce leader of the Royal Guard, and completely oblivious to all of Alphys’ advances towards her. So to hear them spend the evening together was something to raise Toriel’s hopes for their happiness. “...Give Alphys my regards-”

“ _O-oh, she’s just… m-makin’ popcorn right now, f-fuh heh… Yeah, I kinda had to go - Napsta’s over in the resort tonight as well… I-it’s… kind of… embarrassing?”_ , Undyne said softly, and Toriel sighed.

“Then I will not question it… but I was hoping you could maybe help me. I have a problem. Sans is here with me, and he’s very ill… he’s sweating, he has a fever, his bones are rattling, my guards called him ‘nervous’ and ‘high-strung’... and he’s unconscious, he’s been unconscious for _hours_ now-” Suddenly, and very uncharacteristically, Undyne interrupted her, the blush she was sporting almost audible.

“ _O-oh my god! H-how long has h-he been unconscious?”_ Toriel hesitated, trying to reconstruct the evening so far, and then she concluded with a soft sigh.

“...For four hours so far. He arrived at the palace at a little before five, earlier than usual, and… and before he could say anything apart from my name, he fainted…” Undyne was quiet for a very long time, and only by the sound of her breaths did Toriel still know she was there. Then, finally, she spoke again.

“ _...Queen Toriel… I, uh… you don’t have to worry, he’s not ill at all, he’s just… uh, how to put this delicately…”_ , the ichthyan said under her breath, her webbed hands scratching audibly over the scales of her forehead, prompting Toriel to huff and speak without regard for protocol for once.

“Undyne, after everything I have done for the kingdom, after harvesting the human souls, I think I can take whatever ‘undelicate’ matter it is you wish to explain to me. Especially if it involves Sans, whom I hold _most_ dear.”

“ _O-okay… uh, s-so you… uh, d-do you remember the Ri-riverperson?”_ , she asked, and Toriel found herself thinking back on the days before Frisk’s death, on the days where she and her two children had taken the ferry over the river to play around Snowdin’s icy forested slopes.

“...Sir Gaster? Y-yes, I do remember him, fondly even. ...He’s Papyrus and Sans’ father, is he not?”, she mused, and Undyne nodded before clearly realizing that the queen couldn’t see that and voicing the assent.

“ _Y-yeah! Uh, do you remember how… uhm, a-about once or twice a year - about e-every four t-to six months - t-the ferry was out of c-co-commission? ...Well, uh… t-that was because… uhm, s-skeleton monsters… h-have a… a… h-heat cycle…”_

“A… heat cycle?”, Toriel repeated, as though the words made more sense if she uttered them. Then, a sudden thought hit her. Gaster wasn’t the only one that had relinquished his duties for a few times due to ‘circumstances’: one member of the Royal Guard had a similar ‘affliction’. “You mean like Dogaressa from the Dog Pack has?”

“ _Ugh, w-what a comparison… but y-yes, a little similar to, uh, D-dogaressa… only i-it’s_ all _t-the skeleton monsters that get th-the heat cycle, t-the male ones a-and the, uh, indeterminate too I m-mean… a-and there’s a d-di-difference between… Ugh, w-wait… I… A-alphys, I’m so sorry, b-but do you mind if I… s-skip this e-episode, Queen Toriel ha-has a problem-”_ Indistinct shouts from the background were heard, and then Undyne returned to the phone, clearly tapping a device in her other hand. _“S-sorry about Alphys’ shouting-”_

“I can take that, too. She shouts to _me_ as well. She wasn’t angry-” Again, Undyne interrupted, clearly not intentionally this time.

“ _Ah, h-here we go! I… y-you may know, Qu-queen Toriel, that I w-worked with Sans’ brother P-papyrus for a while… a-and he allowed me to r-research hi-his heats… u-uhm, f-for science, o-of course… A-and he reviewed my notes o-on the subject s-so his point of view is included… Uhm, okay, s-so… Ah, h-here we are! A f-five step plan! F-first of all… symptoms… y-you said Sans was sweating, fevered, k-kind of confused! T-then he’s definitely in heat! U-uhm… s-so the second step is… d-determining what kind of heat it is.”_

“I’m afraid you might have to explain _that_ question a little more…”, Toriel admitted, wondering what Undyne could mean with ‘what kind of heat’. As far as she was aware, there was only one type of heat: the lust-crazed drive to reproduce at all costs. Undyne sighed on the other end, and then, after a short second of mental steeling, spoke up in soft, shy, clearly embarrassed tones.

“ _...S-skeletons have… u-uhm… t-two kinds of heat… de-depending on w-which role they… uhm, e-enact… during… y-you know… s-so they ha-have a… s-submissive heat… where they’ll want their partner to t-take control… a-and a dominant heat, wh-where they’ll want to be in control… a-at all costs… D-did Sans… s-say anything? Uhm, d-do anything?”_

“He didn’t have the chance to say or do much apart from getting up and greeting me, then he fainted and he hasn’t come ‘round again!”, Toriel repeated, faintly unsettled by the thought of Sans begging for her to do all sorts of things to him that he normally wouldn’t. She was sure that Undyne’s words, ‘at all costs’, meant that Sans would not be his usual sweet self, either pleading for the kind of ‘lewd things’ he’d never want or… well, _not pleading_ for them… but…

She blushed fiercely at the continuation of that thought, keeping a firm rein on her mind to stop it from wandering. Maybe it wasn’t characteristic for her sweet and charming Royal Companion to be in a lust-crazed state, longing for ‘lewd things’ with all his essence, but the thought was enough to make her body ache.

“...L-let’s just… uh… Sans i-is usually a sweet skeleton, so… he would be, uhm, submissive, I think?”

“ _Y-you’re probably right… P-papyrus is a pretty g-getcha kind of guy so h-his heats were p-pretty much all d-dominant… O-okay, t-then we move to s-step three… ah, i-it says here, uh… ‘roll with it’?”_

“Roll with it.”, the Queen repeated softly, questioningly, and Undyne elaborated right off the bat.

“ _Y-yeah… w-whatever Sans asks for, j-just… uh, within t-the confines of, uhm, r-reason… b-but if he asks to b-be punched, punch him… a-and if he w-wants you t-to call him, uh, n-names, then… g-go for it… b-but if he w-wants you to… d-dust him… d-don’t go that far… T-the rules for dominant heat are a little d-di-different, but p-pretty much th-the same. A-and, uh, n-normally, even in heat… t-the skeleton will… uhm, k-know their limits? ...Uh, s-step four! T-take care of y-yourself a-and Sans! Eat e-enough a-and drink plenty! I-if he’s hurt, t-take care of the injuries w-while he passes out and s-such! I-if you don’t want t-to have c-children… I don’t even know if t-that’s possible w-with a boss monster a-and a non-boss monster… B-but! Just to be on t-the safe side! M-maybe, uh… t-take precautions anyway? B-better safe t-than so-sorry, right? ...Luckily, i-in a submissive h-heat, denial c-comes with the package, s-so you d-don’t have to worry about s-staying with him… Okay… I r-really don’t like talking a-about this w-with the way P-papyrus was…”_ , Undyne said before clearing her throat and continuing as if she hadn’t spoken up at all. _“S-step five… i-is… t-talking? Wait, what the…”_ Toriel could perfectly understand Undyne’s confusion: just ‘talking’ made no sense whatsoever to her. However, after a rustle of paper, the ichthyan on the other end of the line breathed a sigh of relaxation and tacked on: _“Oh, th-the explanation is on the other side… A-after the heat is over… S-sans will remember. A-and he’ll… m-maybe he’ll f-feel upset t-that you… had to d-do the things you did? S-so talk to him… t-tell him it’s okay, tell him y-you accept it…”_

“Now _that_ part, I have absolutely no qualms about… poor Sans, he can’t help this either…”, Toriel sighed out, intending to thank Undyne for her help when suddenly, the ichthyan rustled the papers again.

“ _W-wait… Papyrus… h-he noted down some, uh, remarks o-of his own… H-he says… w-wait, what? N-non mirror siblings… o-oppositional MDNA… oh my god… o-oh my god… h-he was… a-and that must mean…”_

“Undyne? What-”

“ _L-listen, Queen Toriel… u-uh, this… this might be_ really _di-difficult a-and embarrassing to e-explain… Y-you know ho-how I’m over a-at Alphys’ house n-now?”_

“Yes, you said you didn’t want to delve into the reason so-”, Toriel said kindly, only for Undyne to interrupt her unceremoniously.

“ _I-it’s because Papyrus is a-also in heat a-and he and M-me-mettablook were_ l-loud _. A-and kinda gross.”_

“O-oh. Okay… uh, and how is that-” Again, she was interrupted by Undyne.

“ _P-papyrus was in submissive heat. H-he was pleading for… uhm… t-things? A-and I just… ran, k-kind of? A-anyways! T-the thing is! Papyrus w-wrote about h-his own heats here… a-and about S-sans’ first heats… H-he…”_ Suddenly, it clicked into place for Toriel as well. The words Undyne had muttered before about ‘non-mirror siblings’ and ‘oppositional MDNA’ - she wasn’t a total science layman so she knew what those terms meant. Sans and Papyrus were polar opposites - one energetic and optimistic, the other laidback and depressive… and Undyne meant that translated to their heats as well. So if Papyrus was having a _submissive_ heat at the moment…

“H-how much trouble am I in?”

“ _I… a-as long as Sans is unconscious… a-and as long as, uh, h-he doesn’t get… Queen Toriel, w-what food do you ha-have?”_ The question was so out-of-place that Toriel blinked and spoke the answer before even realizing its significance.

“Sans’ visit surprised me, h-he was early, so I didn’t have the supplies for his tacos yet…”

“ _What’s in your kitchen cupboards right now?”_ For once, the fish-like monster didn’t stutter, and Toriel couldn’t blame her one bit. The thought of Sans, a domineering and overpowering Sans bent on one thing and one thing only, though certainly appealing, was more than a little scary as well. Mentally rifling through her kitchen cupboards, she spoke in reply.

“W-well… I h-had Chara over ye-yesterday, so marshmallows and chocolate for s’mores… uh, half a butterscotch-cinnamon pie… the ingredients for my snail pie, minus the snails that Mettablook was supposed to bring over this morning… a packet of brown sugar a-and some milk… u-uhm, some leftover taco shells… potatoes and fruit, mostly grapes and melons…”

“ _O-oh no… n-nothing but sugary foods… Q-queen, uh, you… you sh-should maybe… lock S-sans inside while you get him m-mo-more wholesome food… l-like instant noodles or something!”_

“Okay, th-that sounds like a good idea…” Toriel kept the phone pressed to her ear as she ran quickly back into her home, ready to lock Sans in, only… her bed was _empty_. The sheets looked tousled and slightly wet in places, as did her pillow, but they had been abandoned some time before, maybe even when she’d first walked outside to clear her head. And if Sans wasn’t there, unconscious, then where would he be? “U-uh, Undyne? S-sans… he i-isn’t… in my bedroom anymore-”

“ _O-oh no! He… he m-must be looking for y-you!”_ , the scientist reacted with clear panic in her voice. _“F-first, uh, check t-the kitchen… w-with a little bit of l-lu-luck he didn’t… find the food!”_ Toriel nodded, not even realizing fully that her friend wouldn’t hear.

The gasp that she let out at the state of her kitchen, however, Undyne would definitely have heard. The bag of flour had been overturned and the contents had spilled all over the counter, with matching bony handprints all over the cupboard doors; the sugar, the chocolate, the marshmallows, the remnants of the pie, even the fruit and the milk were all gone, nothing but empty packets and a few melon-skins left.

“ _W-what’s…?”_

“H-he… he ate everything… even… even the _sugar_ and the _honey_ and the _taco shells_ -”, Toriel said, biting her lip, anxiety taking hold. Sans, her sweet Sans… he’d be high-strung and hyper now, and if he’d get his hands on her, there was no telling when he’d let her go again… He’d not listen to her pleas one bit - and who was to say he’d even _allow_ her to plead? Who was to say he wouldn’t tell her to shut up? “M-maybe, uh… maybe I should… g-go and… uhm…”

“ _L-listen, Queen T-toriel… Uhm, S-sans is… is not thinkin’ straight… so, uh… m-maybe don’t go lo-looking for him? ...J-just… uhm, just go t-to the throne room and… a-and…”_

“I’ll go, b-but Undyne, t-this is _Sans_ w-we’re talking about, he… he c-can’t be…”

“ _Believe me, Papyrus’ dominant heats were intense, and he lost the laid-back casual attitude in the rush of hormones and energy… so whatever you think Sans can or can’t be? Throw it out the window right now… W-where are you going now?”_ , Undyne asked, and Toriel paused for a moment, considering her options. Sans was high on a mix of sugar and hormones right now, energy surging his system and flooding his body, and he was looking for satisfaction. He could be anywhere at that moment, waiting for her… so she considered that her best option was to wait for him in the Barrier Room, where he couldn’t surprise her.

“...The Barrier room.”

“ _G-good call! I… uh… D-do you… should I…?”_ Again, the queen knew what her friend and Royal Scientist was going to say, but she pre-emptively spoke up against the idea. She didn’t want to stress Sans out more - who knew what added stress would do to him in such a vulnerable state?

“No, that’s… that’s quite alright, Undyne, just-” She’d reached the throne room’s doorway again and halted. Her throne, her stately throne, which had been put back into its usual place, was covered in thick strands of gleaming light blue goop, droplets of the syrupy liquid slowly rolling off the backrest and dripping down from the armrests. Sans was nowhere to be seen, but when she walked into the room, she froze. There was heavy breathing a little ways behind her, and a familiar laughter echoing off the walls she’d just passed - ‘but this is impossible!’, she mused, until she could distinctly feel the tingle of magic creeping up on her. It was possible - possible and real. She was caught before she’d ever even ran. “...U-undyne… I… I think…”

“ _Oh stars, oh shining merciful stars that totally s-sounds like Sans… u-uhm, remember… r-roll with it, a-and talk a-afterwards-”_ The call got disconnected at that point, and Toriel found herself stumbling as she took a step forward, falling to her hands and one knee as if kneeling in front of her own soiled throne, a husky voice speaking right into her ear the next second.

“ _TORIEL… MWEH HEH HEH HEH…_ I’VE BEEN WAITING _SO LONG_ FOR MY LOVELY LADY… I NEED YOU SO BADLY… I N-NEED TO HAVE YOU, N-NEED YOU TO _BE MINE NOW_ … A-AND FOREVER…”

“Sans-”, she started, only to get cut off as magic swept over her body like the rough and scintillating caress of a dozen disembodied hands, all feeling exactly like Sans’ bony digits exploring her curves, shoving up her dress and pulling down her panties…

“MMMMH… M-MWEH… YOU’RE ALREADY S-SO HOT AND WET, TORIEL… MY LITTLE LEWD LADY… WILL YOU LET ME HAVE YOU? A-ALL OF YOU? ANY WAY I NEED YOU?” Toriel didn’t even consider saying no. She already belonged to Sans in body and mind, long before this… heat of his. Sans’ gloved magic-wrought hands were all over her in the meantime, silencing any remainder of a protest she could have still had: they were rougher than usual, pressing into her fur a little harder, squeezing her breasts a little more forcefully, and then pushing her legs apart a little more eagerly than he usually did, causing her to moan in anticipation.

“ _Ahh!_ ...Yes, S-sans…”

“THEN TELL ME… TELL ME HOW YOU WANT ME, MY DIRTY QUEEN, MY HOT LADY… TELL ME ALL THE LEWD AND SHAMEFUL THINGS YOU WANT ME TO DO TO YOU… HOW HARD YOU WANT IT, HOW FAST, HOW DEEP… TELL ME HOW YOU WANT TO BE FILLED TO BURSTING WITH MY ESSENCES...”, he crooned, which caused a shiver to run along Toriel’s back. He wasn’t giving her an easy option here - and yet, could it be a residual sparkle of his usual innocence that resurfaced in that moment, wanting her to say that she wanted all of this too? Was this his way of being dominant while at the same time still seeking her express demand for all the things he wanted? If so…

“Oh, Sans… I want you, I want you to do everything you want to me… I want you to take me, Sans, to make me yours, to fill me with your magic, your essence, with _yourself_ until I glow with it…”, she said, loud enough for him to hear but still soft enough for it to be intimate, and Sans chuckled. One of his magically-conjured hands dipped within her folds, three bony fingers at once filling her, and Toriel bit back a loud moan until Sans appeared in front of her suddenly.

“MWEH HEH… WELL, SINCE YOU _ASKED SO NICELY_ , MY LOVELY QUEEN… BUT ONLY IF YOU STOP SILENCING THOSE MOANS... I WANT EVERYONE TO HEAR HOW GOOD IT FEELS TO YOU WHEN YOU’RE BEING TREATED RIGHT BY YOUR ROYAL COMPANION...”, he said, leaning down and caressing her face gently. However, just when she meant to answer, the magically-conjured hand that was still fingering her drove back into her sharply, and she had to bite her lip to keep from letting slip a very luxurious moan. However, Sans shook his head and spoke to her again in a slightly patronizing tone. “OH, MY SWEET TORIEL… COME ON, NOW… YOU KNOW I WON’T STOP UNTIL I HEAR YOU MOAN MY NAME… THE LONGER YOU HOLD OUT ON ME… THE LOUDER I’LL NEED YOU TO BE…”

“S-sans, please- _ohh!”_ Toriel couldn’t help but moan when her lover’s magic-formed digits again drove into her roughly, this time curling slightly within her. But Sans was no longer satisfied with the whimpering gasp she gave, and his caresses of her face continued in stark contrast with the rough dips of his fingers into her folds. She could feel her body ache with every motion of those skeletal digits inside of her - and to make matters worse, the other magic-fuelled hands on her torso didn’t stop their explorations either, squeezing and fondling her breasts, her thighs, her buttocks, her hips… “ _S-sans… nnnh…_ please, I… y-you know - _ahh y-yes…_ ”

“AH-AH-AH, MY DIRTY QUEEN… YOU KNOW WHAT I NEED… GIVE ME WHAT I NEED, AND THEN I’LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU NEED… JUST HOW YOU NEED IT…”, Sans crooned, this time moving his caresses upward, threading his hands through her hair… gently caressing her ears and the sensitive spots around her horns…

Toriel only barely opened her mouth in time for Sans to thrust his magically-formed dick into it, and she had to hastily swallow in order to suppress her gag reflex - one of the downsides of having slightly more physicality than the average monster was that she shared that particular human trait. Not that it usually was a bother, but Sans’ heat seemed to have amplified his magic-

When Sans pulled back and thrust into her mouth again, and then again, fast enough for her to miss a swallow and feel bitter remnants of her lunch rise in her throat, she realized that it wasn’t the heat alone that caused him to have an abundance of magic at his disposal. The sugary foods he’d eaten were making sure that he was extra energetic and jittery. His thrusts were fast and hard, and the fact that his fingers curled around her horns for leverage, pulling her into his thrusts… Then, his magical digits, which were still squeezing her plump breasts and exploring her nethers, hit another sensitive spot and she mewled around his length, meaning to say his name but not managing to make it comprehensible due to her mouth being filled up by his dick.

“AHH, TORIEL… Y-YOU ARE SO HOT, SO… SO BEAUTIFUL… SO _FUCKING GLORIOUS_ … GO AHEAD… _U-UHNNN…_ P-PUSH BACK INTO MY HAND… SPREAD YOUR LEGS A LITTLE WIDER… OH, _YEAH_ , TORIEL… M-MY DIRTY, SLUTTY LADY…”, Sans ground out, his breath sounding labored and making his words even more sultry; Toriel hesitated for a second, but then another thrust of Sans’ fingers into her folds had her moan and comply, spreading her legs a little more as best as she could while Sans pulled her into his fast and hard thrusts. Her muzzle was starting to ache slightly from being smashed against his pelvic bone about every half-second, but complaining was the furthest thing from her mind what with the pleasure his hands were bringing her - his real fingers gently caressing the sensitive area around the base of her horns, his magically-summoned digits pressing into her skin, squeezing her nipples, or burying themselves into her wet sheath with maddening precision… her soul danced in front of her, shining like a miniature star, and if she could still use her mouth, she would be howling in delight. “I CAN FEEL YOU SHAKING… OH, TORIEL… I WANT YOU TO COME FOR ME… I NEED YOU TO COME FOR ME… OH, MY LEWD AND DIRTY QUEEN, DO IT… DO IT… _DO IT…!_ ”

“S-S- _SAAAANS!!!_ ”, she cried - it was obscenely loud in the quiet of the castle, and it wasn’t muffled in the slightest: Sans had pulled his length free from her mouth right at the moment when she gave in to the rush of bliss he drew from her. Yet her cry seemed to be exactly what he’d been waiting for to find completion, as he groaned and she could feel his scintillating, thick magic fluids splash across her face in thick strands, dripping from her fur and leaking down her cheeks and muzzle. “ _Sans…_ ”, she whimpered helplessly, only for the skeleton to stagger back into her throne.

“M-MWEH… TORIEL, T-THAT WAS… PERFECT…”, he said breathlessly and tenderly; then, however, his eyes glazed over with lust again and his words turned sultry in a single flutter of a soul. “SEE? THAT WASN’T SO HARD… BE LOUD LIKE THAT, MY LITTLE DIRTY LADY… LET IT ALL OUT… LET THE WORLD KNOW WHO HAS YOUR SOUL AND YOUR GORGEOUS BODY…” He sidled onto the throne as he spoke, winking and motioning himself over. His magical length was still there - that would probably be because of the heat, she reminded herself - and one of his smallish hands was wrapped around it now, stroking himself slowly. “...MMM, TORIEL… COME OVER HERE…”

“Yes, Sans…”, she breathed, still feeling slightly dazed from her previous orgasm and also feeling a little apprehensive about what would follow since Sans was in heat and wouldn’t mind her comfort at all. He’d been pretty mild so far, minding her and even getting her to climax _before_ him, but how long would it take before he would just go all out with little to no care about her enjoyment? He hadn’t said she could get up, and she wanted to please him as best as she could, figuring that that was the quickest and easiest way through this. Sans’ reaction to her crawling her way over to him was a broad grin and a warmth in his voice that was different from the fire the heat inspired in him.

“MMM… DON’T STAY ON YOUR KNEES, MY LOVELY LADY… STAND UP… GO AHEAD… STAND UP AND STAND CLOSE…”

“Okay, Sans, but- _oh my…!_ ” Barely had she gotten up, or Sans pulled her towards him, burying his face against her crotch and licking softly along her folds. She could feel the warmth of his magically-formed tongue laving over her still-sensitive skin, causing her to shiver and spread her legs a little more to allow him better access. “Mmmh, S- _sans…_ Y-you… this feels…”

“YES… GO ON…”, he muttered almost absent-mindedly, his tongue pressing into her swollen clit lightly, circling around it and nearly setting her off a second time - and then his fingers unceremoniously thrust back into her sheath and she gasped, her body shaking as she toppled over the edge again all too quickly. This time, however, she merely whimpered his name, gripping the back of her throne for support as her knees felt weak all of a sudden, and Sans of course had hoped for more of a violent response, like before. “M-MWEH… COME ON, TORIEL… YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT… I WON’T STOP UNTIL YOU CRY OUT MY NAME LOUD ENOUGH TO WAKE UP HALF THE CAPITOL… _MMMNNNNH…_ ” He used his magic to pull her closer, the tip of his tongue licking up the slick fluids her body was so eagerly producing, moaning against her folds and breathing heavily through his nostrils, expelling warm air against her pubis and making her shiver. His one hand also never ceased its motions, three bony fingers thrusting into her at a maddening pace, rubbing against her inner flesh in all the right ways… and she was aware, mainly due to the fact that he moaned more than just pleasuring her warranted, that his other hand was on his own magically-summoned erection, stroking with the same sugar-fuelled speed and a tight grip that clearly meant to mimic her inner flesh’s undulations. His heat was demanding attention, and while she wasn’t pleasuring him, he took it upon himself- “ _M-MMMHHH!!!_ ” His climax was even fiercer than her previous one had been: he nearly added his tongue to the three-digit invasion of her folds as his magic-based fluids jetted out of his glowing, bright blue dick to coat one of her thighs and another corner of her throne, but she didn’t care about that one bit. Innate modesty warred with hunger for more of her lover’s perfect ministrations, and the balance was tipping in favor of the latter slowly, each hungry lick or moan from him making her see stars again.

“O-oh… _Sans, ahhh… p-please… oh god… oh s-stars!_ ” Again, she reached her peak, feeling dizzy and detached from the world for a moment, but when she came back to her senses… She found herself laying back in the grass surrounding her throne, the scent of earth and her own sweat heavy around her, and between her legs, Sans lay, now suckling on her overstimulated flesh and drawing a shuddering moan from her. “ _Oh m-my stars…! S-saaaaans, m-my magni- AH!_ ” She couldn’t move, because her lover had a tight grip on her entire body, his magic pinning her arms down over her head and his actual hands gripping her hips tight enough to leave bruises under the fur. “S-sans… please…”, she feebly tried, only for Sans to shake his head.

“N-NO, MY DELICIOUS FLOWER… CRY OUT MY NAME… BE LOUD… LET THE ENTIRE KINGDOM KNOW WHO YOU BELONG TO, NOW… MMMHN…” He couldn’t even be bothered to leave off her long enough to finish his sentence: his ‘and forever’ got silenced against her folds, and his bony digits reapplied themselves to driving inside of her, hard and fast, and his own soul was pulsing in a rhythm matching hers, dripping liquefied magic the ground below her, and she found herself wanting so, so much more from him, and…

“ _Ahhhh S-SAAAANS…!_ ” And she gave in without a second thought. Sans’ name spilled from her lips loudly and lewdly, and her inner muscles gripped the skeleton’s invading hand tightly, while he looked up at her hotly.

“MMMN… Y-YES, EXACTLY, MY SWEETEST, MY HOT LITTLE LADY… I AM GOING TO TAKE THE FULLEST POSSESSION OF YOU… _OHH STARS!!_ ” He’d gotten up, stroking himself, but that ended him up losing control once more, his come spurting over her torso this time, from her breasts to her stomach. “OH T-TORIEL… AHHH… P-PLEASE TELL ME YOU WANT ME… T-TO _FUCK_ YOU…” His blush deepened, and that was all the incentive Toriel needed to nod, pulling Sans up for a passionate kiss. His bony hands, one still slick with her juices and one painted light blue with _his_ fluids, moved up to cup her cheeks while at the same time, his hips rolled into her hard, rubbing his length against her stomach. Their souls were so close now, and she could feel their mutual aching for a true unison, a true melding together… He wanted it so badly, with all of his being, and she had to admit she wasn’t averse to it either...

“Sans… if it is what you need, then fuck me… I am yours, as I have been since we met…”, she whispered, and Sans nodded.

“MWEH… HHNMMM… T-THEN B-BETTER HOLD ON TIGHT… I’M N-NOT… _MMMWEHHH…!_ ” While he spoke, Sans rolled off her and prodded her into a kneeling position in front of her throne. She half-expected for a fleeting second that he intended her to give him head again, but then he thrust into her hard mid-sentence, barely pausing before pulling back and slamming his magic-formed dick into her again as deep as she could take it. It was unexpected and the pleasure made her body react on instinct: with an inarticulate gasp, her body gripped his and her mind blanked for a few seconds. Sans, however, didn’t stop: as soon as her body relaxed again, he thrust into her again, and again and again, his sugar high and his heat combining to make his motions extra rough and fast.

“Oh s-stars, Sans…”, Toriel whimpered, spreading her legs a little more and digging her front paws into the earth amidst the grass for a little added grounding, something she sorely needed as Sans’ rough motions and the feeling of his magic caressing her entire body - tangible and heated within her sheath and airy and scintillating on the rest of her body - brought her close to the edge yet again. “O-oh stars… _ohh Sans…!!! Mmmh,_ y-you’re so magnificent… so good… ohh, don’t stop… don’t stop, _d-don’t- ahhh!!_ ” The line between highs began to blur, and yet, Toriel could feel something else - in between the constant flow of release and re-energizing from all the stimulation, the caresses and the rough rutting of her lover, there was a rising tension _deeper_ within, coming from her very soul that was glowing brightly and dripping ethereal liquid between her palms. “ _Oh SANS, p-please… AHHH YES…!_ ”

“T-TORIEL… OH _STARS!! MMMNH-H-HAAAHHH!!_ ”, came the barely articulate answer from her Royal Companion in conjunction with another spurt of his magic turned liquid that warmed up her insides and caused her lower stomach to glow for a few seconds. “AHHH… M-MY SOUL… DAMN IT, TORIEL, Y-YOU FEEL SO AMAZING- _AH F-F-FUUUHHHH…!_ ” The slight skeleton’s grip was hard but grounding in a way - the slight pain kept Toriel aware during the onslaught of perfect and wild sex Sans was indulging in with her. A particularly hard thrust had her inner muscles clamp down around his length again, but now Sans kept powering through even that, the friction maddening and bringing him off a few seconds later. Toriel’s soul gushed out another trickle of bright liquid; meanwhile, Sans’ soul was… _somewhere_ \- Toriel had to admit she had lost track of it somewhere between Sans’ first climax and her subsequent high. But just when she meant to cease questioning it and give in to the pleasure that was threatening to make her _burst at the seams_ , Sans deliberately but still somewhat gently pulled her head up by her horn. “T-TORIEL… MY SOUL… AH _S-STARS!!_ OH, M-MY LEWD QUEEN, MY BEAUTIFUL GODDESS OF PLEASURE… T-TELL ME YOU… _U-UHHHNNN… N-NNRRRRGH…!_ OHH, J-JUST-” He couldn’t finish his thought, pleasure causing him to grunt or moan helplessly in the onslaught of pleasure he was feeling, amplified by the heat and made all the more overwhelming by the sugar high that was clearly running at its end, but Toriel understood what he meant perfectly clearly. He, too, felt that build-up of a new and even more soul-stopping nature, and he wanted to know if he could pursue it.

“S-sans, _yes… yes, oh heavens yes, p-please… oh my stars…_ ”, Toriel moaned plaintively, and just like that Sans sped up even _more_ , his hips slamming into her bottom hard and fast enough to leave what felt like _permanent_ bruises and indentations in her form, but that mattered less than his soul floating slowly towards the throne, and hers joining it, and she could _feel_ the power that was gathering between the two of them…

Then, Sans thrust into her hard and deep one last time, and she lost it at the same time as him, while their souls didn’t press together but _merged_ and the world smeared out like ink spreading in water. For a few moments, she could feel herself being more - she could feel the ache of her bottom and her knees, but also strain in legs that weren’t hers, cramps in fingers that were too slender to belong to her… and she felt like there was no distinction between the two monster bodies coupled together, just like there was no distinction between their souls for as long as it lasted…

Then, she could feel their essences separating again, and the feeling of Sans’ body flittered from her mind to be replaced with a deep, complacent sense of _utter belonging._ Looking herself over, sweaty and stained with light blue fluids, even now, her lower stomach brightly illuminated - she vaguely realized that that would warrant some hasty actions early the next morning - and her soul slowly receding back into her chest… she had never felt better, she realized. Her soul was still tender, her body even more so, and when she moved, she could feel Sans’ magic-turned-liquid oozing out of her, staining her thighs even more than they already were, but… but she couldn’t care less about any of that. Instead, she looked over Sans, who groaned her name feebly before passing out again, with a tenderness that she had never felt so acutely before, and certainly not right after what they’d just indulged in.

“...Oh, Sans, my magnificent, my perfect knight… for a moment, we were completely one…”, she whispered to him, leaning down over him, and he sighed out her name longingly in his unconscious state, prompting her to smile. When she looked around for their clothing, she noticed something else that their complete, heat-induced union had accomplished.

The entire throne room was _engulfed_ in small lilies-of-the-vale, blooming and spreading a pleasant fragrance that overpowered the scent of sweat and the characteristic smell of blueberries and cinnamon that their mutual essences had. Indeed, the only evidence of their violent tryst that was still visible at all, apart from the flowers, were the clawmarks in the soil where she’d helplessly sought to ground herself before.

“T-TORIEL…”, Sans muttered, turning in her hold to seek her warmth, and the queen decided that she and her lover could use a little cleaning-up before retiring to her bed. She’d have to be there when he awoke again, she guessed with a slightly pleased smile…

* * * * *

“U-UHNN… I F-FEEL LIKE… LIKE T-THAT TIME WHEN… WHEN PAPYRUS GAVE ME A SIP OF THAT... L-LIQUOR STUFF MUFFET SOMETIMES USES IN HER PIES… I… H-HOW DID I END UP AT THE PALACE?!” Sans looked around when he woke up, feeling his bones ache and his head spinning. He hadn’t bargained on his current location being… well, _not his room_ , to be honest. The last thing he remembered… “LAST I REMEMBER, I WAS… P-PAPYRUS SAYING HE WOULD GO TO METTABLOOK’S… I THINK? ...U-UGH… I DON’T FEEL TOO GOOD…”

“...Sans? Are you… awake now?” Looking next to him, Sans discovered a very disheveled Toriel, her fur tousled and slightly matted down in places, smiling at him lazily.

“TORIEL! I… I’M SORRY, I MUST HAVE… BLACKED OUT?”, he said, only for Toriel to nuzzle him and gently kiss his cheekbone, and memories came _flooding_ back: heat, pleasure, magic swarming from him, the taste of sugar and Toriel on his tongue, more pleasure, and then… Suddenly, the almost barely visible blue color of the fur on her thighs made a lot more sense to him, and he blushed deeply. “OH M-MY STARS!! T-TORIEL, MY DEAREST, M-MY QUEEN, I… P-PLEASE FORGIVE ME, Y-YOUR EVER-LOYAL S-S-SE-SERVANT-”

“Sans… please, there’s nothing to forgive…”, Toriel said, wrapping one arm loosely around his shoulder and pulling him closer to nuzzle the top of his skull lovingly, but Sans didn’t let go of the matter just yet. His memories were hazy with pleasure but sharp due to the jittery energy that had clearly imbued him, and they were all… very, _very_ lewd indeed. And very unlike him, too.

“B-BUT I… I BEHAVED VERY UNTOWARD! I D-DID THINGS! V-VE-VERY L-LEWD THINGS!! M-MY QUEEN, I-”

“Sans…”, Toriel interrupted gently and patiently as always, looking him in the eyes with a kindness and warmth that made Sans’ soul glow a little, just a tiny pinprick of light in his chest but one that was matched by Toriel. “...You did not do those things by choice, and even if you _had_ , then I _allowed_ them and _accepted_ them nonetheless. I love you, Sans… I love you _deeply…_ and even when you are in heat, I will love you just the same. You are my Royal Companion, my magnificent Sans… my soulmate…”

“A-AS YOU ARE MINE, TORIEL! MY SOULMATE, N-NOW AND FOREVER! AND I WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR KNIGHT AND LOYAL SERVANT!!”, Sans said happily, tenderly kissing Toriel by pressing his teeth against her cheek. Then, he remembered something else - an image of Toriel, her stomach glowing light blue from within… and alongside it came a distant but nevertheless unmistakeable memory of Papyrus telling him that he needed to be very careful during his ‘difficult’ heats, because ‘accidents happen in a flash an’ a bang, bro’ - which he’d raged about for _hours_ because his brother didn’t have any right to be so lewd… “O-OH NO, TORIEL!! D-DID YOU… UH, H-HA-HAVE YOU…? M-MY MAGIC… I… Y-YOU SHOULD… UNLESS Y-YOU… I MEAN... M-MWAAAH, I C-CAN’T BELIEVE I H-HAVE TO…!” He meant to continue, only to find Toriel giggling lightly, causing her entire body to shake very gently. “I-IT IS NOT FUNNY, MY QUEEN! W-WE… WERE VERY P-PA-PASSIONATE! A-AND PASSION SUCH AS THAT H-HAS CO-CONSEQUENCES, MWEH!”

“Oh, _Sans…_ is _that_ what has you all blushing and shy? I… don’t worry about it, okay?”, Toriel said, holding Sans close in a loose hold, and Sans looked her over.

“B-BUT, MY QUEEN…!”

“My dearest knight, it’s true that you… surprised me before I had the chance to take some precautions, but… I t-took care of the matter. But rest assured, Sans, if ever we find our freedom again… then, perhaps…” Sans didn’t need her to continue: very gently and deliberately, he grasped her face in his hands and pressed his teeth to her lips, lovingly kissing her while his soul felt like it filled with hot air at the thought of himself and Toriel, free, greeting the clear blue sky with a smile holding each other’s hand… the thought of himself and Toriel nursing a new life with their own essences… It was the most beautiful thought in the world.

“MWEH, TORIEL, MY LOVELY SOULMATE… I COULD NOT AGREE MORE!!”


	12. Mew Mew Kisses The Cutie <3 (Alphys x MewMew sin)

“…Well well well, Alphys…”  Looking up from her work - or, more accurately, a hot little yaoi magazine she’d found drifting in the garbage dump the other day - Alphys looked up to find her robotic creation inhabited by her ghostly friend walking over to her holding something familiar.  Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the Mew Mew sticker on the front of the small, thin booklet.

“M-mettaton!  W-whe-where did you f-find that?!”, she asked shakily, biting her claws nervously.  What had he seen?  Frantically, she tried to look at the passage he held open, but he held the book higher while answering.

“It was laying on your workbench - you know, the one where I _sleep_ …  So very _forgetful_ , Alphys, darling~♦  Well, I already knew that you were obsessed with Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, but _this much_?  And to think that, at first, I thought you were getting so sweaty and bothered by Makoto or even Takashi…”

 _Oh no._ Suddenly Alphys knew _exactly_ which page of the booklet was open, and Mettaton’s smirk felt all the more taunting.

“…but it’s actually _cute little ‘Mew-Mew’ Miyuki herself_ , ohohoho!  And such _dirty_ things you’ve written here…  ‘” _N-no, Saku-chan, I could never kiss you, did you forget about my powers?”, Miyuki said with tears in her eyes, but Sakura didn’t let her go and tilted her chin up.  “Then don’t kiss me on my lips… there’s plenty of other places to kiss… like my cheeks…”  Carefully, she pressed her trembling lips to Miyuki’s cheek, and the cat-girl’s tail puffed out a little.”’_ \- why, that Sakura sounds a little like you, doctor… all shaking, shivering, blushing mess… and if I remember correctly, I’ve never seen a character named Sakura in the anime… so I think we both know who she’s meant to represent…”

“M-mettaton!  D-don’t… don’t…!”, Alphys said, groaning and looking away, but that didn’t stop the robot from continuing.

“Or _this_ bit, half a page further down… ‘ _Sakura gently pushed up Miyuki’s frilly favorite blouse, baring her chest and her perky bosom.  “You are so beautiful Miyu’, so perfect… I don’t mind your scars at all, they make you who you are… they show how hard you’ve fought to get to this point in your life… to me…”  Miyuki meant to answer, but the light touch of Sakura’s fingers all along her stomach and sides before gliding lightly up to cup her firm breasts had her purring, her tail relaxing again.  “S-sakura… please…”, she pleaded, even if she didn’t realize what she was pleading for, herself.’_ \- oh, doctor Alphys, if that Sakura is meant to be you, does that mean it isn’t Undyne you’re after anyway, but some poor little catgirl in this underground?”

“ _Mettaton…”_ , Alphys was reduced to a whimpering, pleading tone.  Shame mingled so perfectly with the residual sparkle of arousal at hearing Mettaton’s smooth, deep though slightly overdramatically-entoned voice read out her own smutty little fiction to her.  He read the Miyuki parts all wrong, naturally, but Alphys’ imagination was filling those in with natural eagerness.  It was only when Mettaton read out the next part that she fully understood how eager she was.

“Oh, but what _really_ got me was the part where Miyuki and Sakura finally, how shall we say… _get down to it_ , mhmhm…  ‘” _O-oh…  Sakura…”, Miyuki yowled urgently, her claws digging into Sakura’s hips painfully and drawing blood.  “Mmm, Miyu’, you really taste so sweet… so full… ah, but don’t stop…”, Sakura said before returning to her gentle suckling on Miyu’s clit and the thrusting of her fingers into her friend and lover’s wet folds as deep as she could get them, gasping when Miyuki returned the favor again and ran her dainty and slightly rough cat’s tongue along her slit, turning it even more slick and slippery than it already was.  And-’_ \- oh _my_ , Alphys, should I stop?  Hmm, darling?  Before you _make a mess for real_?”

“U-uh…”  Her magic was swarming around her in small pinpricks of the brightest yellow, like tiny little stars crowding around her.  Mettaton reading out the actual dirty part of her little fan-fiction had motivated her into replaying the scene in her mind’s eye - her favorite fantasy while she fingered herself on particularly cold and lonely nights, to spark warmth into her bed and to make up for the incredible longing for her own friend…

“…Oh, Alphys, dear… do you need a moment?”

“N-no, I need… I need…”  She knew what she needed: she needed  _Undyne_  to do all of those things to her.  When she’d written about ‘Sakura’ worshipping Miyuki’s body, it was a metaphor for actually wanting to be in a position to do the same to Undyne; and when ‘Sakura’ and Miyuki finally made love, she knew it was a feeble but sufficient substitute for wanting to see Undyne come undone at her hands, shedding all of her mental armor and showing her shining, fish-monster heart to her and only her…  

She needed Undyne so badly, so completely.  It wasn’t even something she was able to classify in terms of anime relationships anymore.  Her magic flickered away again, leaving her feeling slightly hollow, and she sighed shakily.

“M-mettaton… don’t… don’t tell anyone, okay?  N-nobody would u-understand…”

Mettaton finally relinquished his mild taunting, handing her the book and shaking his head before walking back to the door of her study.

“…Take a moment, and… well, if I promise not to tease you anymore, can you promise not to feel ashamed about your feelings?  I mean, it already _was_ a little obvious to _me_ that you’re into the beauties more than you’re into the gentlebeauties, hehe…”  Smiling broadly at her in the doorway, he added: “It isn’t something you need to hide from me, or from anyone else for that matter, darling.  We’re _friends_.  I will always love you for who you are.  No judgment, just… occasionally I might tease you a little in private, but never too much, okay?”

“O-okay…”, Alphys admitted, shaking and waiting for Mettaton to head back before looking at the book and exhaling a shaky sigh before leafing to the last sentence of the story.

‘” _My friends wouldn’t understand…”, Sakura admitted miserably, and Miyuki drew her in for a hug.’_

Shakily, she took a pen and made a tiny addition to the story, one that she felt was long overdue as she made it.

‘ _After a light peck on the cheek, Miyuki shook her head and puffed out her tail.  “You won’t know they understand or not unless you are honest with them, no matter how embarrassing it feels.  But don’t hide who you are, okay, Saku’?  Never hide who you are.”’_


	13. Stammer my name (Underswap Papyton sin)

“fuck, metta… y-you’re always so damn tight…”  If there was anything Mettablook loved more than anything about his bonefriend, it was that waver in his voice when he experienced pleasure.  Papyrus’ voice was always deep and grainy, his words always spoken like they were smoothed out and rounded by the skeleton’s inner self, so when they became a little more jagged, less easy and more _staggered_ , it was a sure sign he felt amazing enough to lose his perfect control over his speech.  It wasn’t anything special if Mettablook stammered in the throes of passion, because they _always_ spoke with that shy and awkward stutter to their speech, but Papyrus _made a living with his words_ \- partly, at least, he _was_ an opening act to Napstabot as well as a million other things like hotdog salesman, sentry, and ‘irresponsible’ younger brother - so he had to be on point all the time.  But not with them, not with Mettablook, not in the confines of his room or their house, with the curtains drawn and the sound of their moans contained within four walls.  When it was only the two of them, there was no need for perfection…

And Mettablook found themself eager to bring his bonefriend to the point where he couldn’t voice anything properly anymore each of those times.

“Ohh, P-papyrus… c-can I… t-try something?”, the little ghost asked, prompting their bonefriend to grin and nod.

“mm, sure thing, metta, ‘s long as it feels good for you- _uhhnn!”_ Papyrus’ next words turned into a soft grunt as Mettablook used the semi-solidity arousal always bestowed upon them to gently push Papyrus onto his back before floating up and settling over them, keeping the motions of their ghostly body light and keeping a tight hold on Papyrus’ formed magic.  “…ahh, babe… ‘s so fuckin’ good to see you ride me like that… ohh, metta… y-you’re so awesome…”

“T-thank you… Papyrus… mmmh, d-darling…”, the ghost groaned, prompting a shiver from his skeletal lover that translated back into their body as well.  “ _O-ohh m-my… yesss…”_

 _“_ k-keep it up, metta, babe… oh man, s-so tight…”, Papyrus muttered, his hands shaking as they drifted to Mettablook’s formless sides to hold onto him and to be able to thrust up into him, nearly throwing the ghost off his plan.  But when he panted, they caught a hold of themselves again and proceeded with their idea, forming their magic into a long swirl to curl around Papyrus’ bones and squeeze in time with his body.  The resulting wave of pleasure had the skeleton’s bones rattle none too subtly and the bed creak as Papyrus arched into the touch.  “ _fuuuuck…_ y-you really wanna see me… ahhh… l-lose my shit today, h-huh?”

“Oh, mmmh, P-papyrus… ahhh, y-you know all I wa-want i-i-is to see you - _uhn!_ \- l-lose yourself i-in my embrace…  I n-need you w-with me as I go t-to heaven… ahh, Pa-p-papyrus…”  They tightened both their magic and the ectoplasm-dripping confines of their amorphous body, squeezing Papyrus’ bones and his magic length even more, and tentatively reached the magic inward, towards his soul, preparing for the backlash of pleasure they’d receive so they could proceed with their plan.  The second the coil of pink, glittering magic reached their lover’s soul, Papyrus tensed and shivered.

“ _a-ahh g-god fuckin’ YEAH…!”_ , he moaned loudly, his voice wavering even more dangerously as his magic exploded outward, liquified magic shooting inside of Mettablook through the shaped magical member they’d formed - Mettablook, however well-prepared, could not handle that much energy applied directly to their soul, and they saw their own release as well in a squishy explosion of ectoplasm and raw bright pink magical energies.

“Mmmhh y-ye- _YEAH Papyrus!!”_   Their plan was the last thing on their mind, but somehow, whether by accident or because their preparations had worked, the backlash of their own magic flooded across Papyrus’ still-frazzled soul, and the result…

“ _H-H-HO-HOLY S-SHIIIIIIT M-M-MHHHHNNNN!!!!”_ Papyrus leapt from lowercase to uppercase, from well-articulated to completely incomprehensible, as a second wave of magic shot straight from his soul, great big sparks of it that sunk into Mettablook’s body and glowed like stars against the walls and ceiling, causing the ectoplasm Mettablook always exuded at the height of passion to glitter all the more.  Both monsters collapsed onto the bedsheets breathing like they’d ran a marathon, despite neither of them having the need to breathe, and Mettablook found, to their utter surprise, that they were the first one to speak.

“W-wow… I… d-didn’t expect it t-to… to be _t-that_ amazing… s-seeing you l-let go s-s-so completely t-twice in a row…”  Papyrus didn’t answer, raising his hand ineffectually and then dropping it again with a feeble groan that slightly worried Mettablook, causing the ghost to look at his bonefriend.  “P-papyrus?”  Still no answer came, and the slight ghost became genuinely worried in another soul’s flutter.  “P-papyrus, darling, s-say something…”

“…damn…”  The waver in his voice was gone, but he spoke slowly, as if he had trouble even _finding_ the words, and Mettablook perked up a little again.

“O-oh t-thank goodness, I t-thought…”

“…you sneaky li’l ghostfriend… i thought we’d agreed…”, Papyrus said, rolling over and trapping Mettablook’s slight form underneat his own, grinning down at the ghost with a slight fire in his eyes.  “…no double-dippin’, babe…”

“B-but… I d-di-didn’t want…  I j-just l-love the way your voice g-goes incoherent a-at times…”, Mettablook defended, prompting Papyrus to chuckle and wink down at him.

“oh, ya do, do ya?  …well then, babe, i’m sure you won’t mind tellin’ me all about how makin’ _me_ scream for ya gets you riled up with my magic all around ya _juuuust_ outta reach…”

Mettablook decided then and there to pursue making Papyrus utterly incoherent every night for the rest of their ghostly life.


	14. ERROR 405 METHOD NOT ALLOWED (SwapSans x ErrorSans sin)

“S-SO… WHAT DO YOU DO IN H-HERE APART FROM, UH, W-WATCHING THAT ‘UNDERNOVELA’ THING?”, Sans asked the… glitchy version of himself, though he did so carefully.  Ever since he’d felt the first blue tendril wrap around his soul tightly, yanking him into a gateway leading to a void of sorts, he’d learnt that his captor was very… odd.  He seemed perfectly sane and logical one moment, aloof and brooding the next, and _insane to the point of megalomania_ a soul’s flutter later.  Not wanting to upset the balance, Sans quickly learnt to bite his metaphorical tongue and just… _roll with it_.

Well, the moment when his glitchy alternate self reintroduced him to his timeline, saying it was empty and only Papyrus was still alive… that was definitely one of the hardest moments to keep his mouth shut and his teeth firmly clenched together.  After that, however, his glitched alternate self had opened up to him a little more, giving him treats such as chocolate and milkshake - which were okay, they had always just been more _Papyrus’_ thing though… and telling him a little more about himself, like enlightening him on his first memory… and showing him his other ‘friends’, which were just puppets unlike him…

“ W̡el͡l,̀ t͢h̛a̧t'̶s why ͏Í ̡broug̶h͠t y̛ou, ͠tò.́.̧.̡ ̨ḩav͝e ͜som̢ethin͏g to ͞do͠ ͏o̢th̸èr t̶haǹ w̶at͘ch ͠so̢me ͏bor̷i҉ng r͞e̸alit͞y̴ ̴sh͟ǫw..͏.̛”

“M-ME?  MWEH, B-BUT… WELL, WE CAN DO THINGS, LIKE… TALK, AND TELL S-STORIES… AND…”

“ .̛͝.͝.̨͝͞Blu͏̀e̡b͟e͜͞rr̨̕͢y͏̀.̴͠.. w͏̢h̴at҉ ̢̢͏d̡i̵d̵ ͠y҉͜o̴ų ̨͠do͜ ̀͡b̴a̧̛cḱ̡̨ ̢in͜ ̸͞y̵͠o͘u̕ŕ̨̛.̴̵̡.͡.͘͠͡ ͠҉µ̵͏͏n̡!̷̵vèr$€͘-̴̴̀ ̛h̢-̴͜h͠͞ó̴̵m͘ę̶͢? ҉̶̀” The question caught him off-guard, prompting him to think about it.  Back home… he’d had his patrolling and sentry duties, but they were next to useless here; cooking, but that was also voided; his puzzles and japes, but even those would never work in the emptiness where the glitchy version of himself lived… all that remained, then, was Papyrus - both his own and the other, darker Papyrus that he’d come to see as his… _skelefriend_ …

“MWEH?  W-WELL, I… H-HAD PAPYRUS… AND MY, UH, M-MY…”  How was he supposed to tell this odd, glitch-hunting version of himself ‘well, I had an alternate version of _my brother_ that I _did lewd things with’?_ However, fortunate or unfortunate as it would be, the error-driven version of himself rolled his eyes.

“ I'̷ve ̷seen, ͞B͟l̸ueb̴erry..̢. I͞'ve͝ ̵s҉ee͝n̶ w̨ha̛t y͜oų ͟a̷ll̀o͟we͡d ͘t͞ha̕t o̕th͞e͝r Pa̸py͘rus͞ to ͜do̷ ̨to̴ you b̧e̶c̴aưşe ͝you̴r ow̴n P̛a͟pyru͞s̀ ̵w̵o̢u͏l͠dn'͠t… I'v̕e͜ ̴s͘een ̕how̷ you hi҉d your n̛eeds̨ fŕom̷ one̷ ̕versio̡n ͠o͜f̵ y̶o͠u̧r ͜b͘rǫth͝er҉ j͞ust to̧ sp͢laỳ ͘t́h͜e̶m ̢o͟ut̕ ́w̛ide opęn̕ ̵f̡or ̨t͠h͞e ͞ǫth̢eŗ.̀.̨. ”

“A-AND YOU…  J-JUST _WATCHED ME_?  EWW-”

“ D̕o̵̷͝n͢'̵͞t̶ ju̵̷ḑg͏͏e ͝m҉̧̡e̶̢!̵͡ ̸̵ ̛͞͠Y̛͘ǫ͝u͟͟͝ ̢̡w͞e̵̶r͠e̴͜͝ t̵̡҉hȩ ͏͞o҉ņ̛́e d̴̸ò̢͡i̷͞n̶̴g͟ ͘t̷ho͘s̵̛e͡͝ ҉̶͠'̸̀l͏͜͠e̸̴wd̛̕ thi̶̢̢ńg̛̛͠s̷̸’ ͜͞w̧͡i͏͞t̡̢h͘͝ ͘͜a̛҉͠n ̸͢e͜͜a̸s̷y͟-͜t͏o̕͞-̀͡r̢̀e҉a̶̛͡c҉h ̀P̴̨̀a͏̨͝ṕ͝y̴̧͢r̴u͠s̀͞,͠ ̕͏t̸ȩ͞l͘͘͢l̶͢͟i̶͟n̸̶̶g̸͝͝ ͢͜y̨̕o̶͟u̶͜͟r̀͡s̨͢e̴̛͝l̸̷f̷ ̵̡t̸̷͏ḩ͘a̕ţ̨ ̨is̵͘n̸̡'̸͘͠t̶͞ ̢̀̕y̵ó̧u̸̕͠r͢ ͏b̸͏r̛o͘͟th͞e̢r̨ w̨̛h̵̛e̢͏n̴ ̡į̕͏t̶ s҉̢t͏͢͠i͝l̶l͢͝ ͢͏͠is̴̢.͞.̸́͟.̴̛ ̴͞͠n̡̨o̷̴ m̶͢a͡t͡te̵͝r̛͞ ̡͜w̧͏h͞i̢̕͏ch̀ u̸͡n̵̛͢i͝v̧͘e̴̢͡rs̷̢͢e̶͟͠,͝ ͏҉P͏a͏̨p̨ý͞͡r̕҉us̨̧̀ ̧i̢͞͡s͟ a͢l̡̡̢w̸̡͢a҉ys̷̨ ͢Pa̶̸py̛҉ŕ̨u̡͘͞s̀,̶̢̀ ̵͜á̀͟s̛ ̵y̢͢o̧ur ͞o̶w͏́͢n̸̵ b̵̸̛r͘͠òt̷h͟͡e͜͝r͞ ̴̨͞s͢ò̡̀ ͘ṕr̵̸oud̀l͜y̕͏ an͏d ̵̨̕d̨e͟͏̷fi̷a̸͢n҉tl͟y̵̨҉ ̨́p̶̧u̸͜t̢ ̴͘í̕t҉͏.͜..̶͠”

“F-FINE… I W-WON’T COMMENT!!  BUT… BUT THE OTHER PAPYRUS IS  _NOT MY BROTHER_ … N-NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY…”, Sans said defiantly, turning his back on the other Sans and intending to walk away, only for a sudden pull at his soul to halt him.  Looking down, he saw the strings off Error’s fingertips digging into his soul painfully, making not just his soul but his very bones hurt.  “Y-YOU’RE HURTING ME!!”

“ I̵̛̛f̶͘͠ ̸̛P̧͢ap̨͘yru̶s̷ ̴͘i҉̶̨ş̀ ̷̶͢n̸͢ó҉t͘͜ ̷̨͡y̡͝o̷u͝r͏̵ ̴̨b̡͡r̷̢͞o̵͝t̨͟͡h͡e̶r̛,͘ ̷̧͜t̴h̢͟͡e̕n̴̨ ̸I̴ ̵ą͘͘ḿ̧̛ ͏n̶̷ò͢t͠ ̸͘y͘ou̢.͜͠.̢.̷̡”, the other version of himself said softly, grinning broadly at Sans while he walked so he stood in front of Sans.  What he did next, however… it scared Sans, to say the least.   “ .͜͠.̢.̷̡ and̷ ̢y̨e͜t҉͘,̛ ҉w̨͏̷h̡en҉̡ ͏I͞ ̶͡҉t͝o̵̡͘u҉҉͡c̡h̸̛ ̷̛ḿ͜ỳ͞s̕҉e̡͟͟l̡̕f͘,̴ ̀͏yo̸u͞͏ ̀͡fe̵ȩl̢҉ it ̷̧̛t̕oo̵̢,̸͏̶ ҉̕d̡́on̛͘͠'t̷̛ ͝͡yo̡u̴?͢”  Dragging his hand down his torso, the glitchy version of himself groaned, and Sans felt his own hand move - a blue thread had woven around his bones, entwining in between his metacarpals… and making him caress himself just like the errored-up version of himself did.  

“M-MWEH… N-NO, THIS IS JUST… J-JUST YOUR CONTROL OVER M-ME…!”, he spoke defiantly, gasping again when the glitchy version of himself caressed his own bones again and his own hand followed the motion.  The blue threads  squeezed his soul as well, and now Sans was startled to see a minute droplet of fluid slowly trickle over one of the threads.  “N-NOOOO…!”, he ground out more desperately, prompting a grin from his alternate version.

“ Do ҉҉y̢̕͢ơ͜u̧ ͡͠s҉̸t͞ì̡l͝l͝ ̵b̸͟͝e͞l͜͟į̵̷e͡v̧̛e ͠w̨͝ę ͠a̧͏͢r̴̴e̛ ̛n̢ot͘ ̵́̕ơ̴̶ǹę͟͞ ̧͘ą̢n̛̛͝d̷̷ ̕͠t҉ḩ̴͘e̢̢͢ ̛̀sa҉m̢̨͜e̸?̵”, came the teasing question, which he answered with a nod.

“I WILL NEVER BELIEVE WE’RE THE SAME BEING!! M-MWEH… M-MY BROTHER WOULD NEVER GIVE YOU HIS B-BROTHERLY LOVE-”

“ A͢n̡͠͠d̢͟ ̷̢́ẁh̴̨̕a҉̶t̷̛͞ abo̡͢u̕͏͞ţ͠ ͡y̧o̶u,̧̨͡ ̶B́l̶̛úe҉̴͞b̵̢er̸r̴͝y̕͡ ̷̨S̡͠͡a͠n̡s̀?҉ ̵̵́W̧̢̧h̀á̢t͡͡ ͜w̵o̵͜u͝l̶͢d̕҉ ҉y̛͠o̢u ҉g̶̴͜ív̛è͟͠ ̵̷͡t̵o̸̢ ͜y̴̶o͞u̧r͠ ͠͠br̸̴̛o̶͢t̢͝h͢e̴̸r̸?̢̧ ̷̡͞ ̸͏͝Y̸͘͟o͏u̵r̡͘̕ ̴̧҉m̡̨͡a̸̢ģi̧c҉̷?̴̶̕”, the other version of himself asked, dragging his hand teasingly over his lower ribs, causing Sans to groan as his own hand and arm mirrored the movement, magic starting to sparkle off him. ͝ ͘͟͝”Ýo̴͞ư͢r̕͘ ͢͟b̡̛od͠͝y̨͡?̸̀”, the other version of himself suggested before dipping his hand to slowly trace the outline of his spine; Sans’ toes nearly curled in his boots at the onslaught of joy that made him feel.  ͏͜”.̵.̀.̧Y͜o̕u̸҉r ̸͞ś̷ơ̕ú͝l̕?̶͞͠”, he tried again, and Sans groaned.  His answer sounded shaky at best.

“M-MWEHH!!  W-WHAT I WOULD GIVE TO MY BROTHER IS N-NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!!”

“ Ǫh̴,̶͢ ̧͟b̢̕u̕̕͟t̸̀ ̧͡it̵ ̧i͘͞s̷.̢̕..͠ b̧̧eţ̴te̸̷r҉̨͠ ̀͠té͠l̵͘l̛ m͘̕e ̧͢͝ǫr̴̡͝ ͟͢͡I͡'҉l̶ĺ͞ ̶g̷̴͘o͢͡ ̵͟b҉͡a̕c̢k̸ ̸̨a͏nd ̷̕͞ḱ̛̕i͜͟͡ļ̕͟l҉́ h̷̀͡į̶m̨̛,̸̶͢ ̧er҉̸̀àş́ȩ͡ ͜͞h̷͘í̸m ̶f̸o͟r̷e҉v̸͠e̛͘r̴̷͜.̨͟͞..̛” Then, another movement of his glitchy alternate self had Sans’ hand dip right into his pelvis, his fingers flexing and stretching to caress the overly-sensitive inside of the large bone, prompting Sans to lose the battle against himself - in many ways - and moan.

“MMMMH…  P-PLEASE… MY BROTHER…”

“ S̢͠a̸y̨͘͜ ̸̸we͏̛ ̶̕a͜r҉͝e͢͡ ̧͘͜o҉҉͡n̴e̢ ̷a҉ǹ͜d̡͟ ͜͢ţḩ̨̧e̛̕͠ s̀͟a̧̧m̶̀͜e̸͘,͢ B̴͢l̕͝ư͏͢eb̀͞é́r͠r̷̴̸y҉…̡͢͝ ”

“MWEH, NO!   _UUUHNNNNGH…”_ When he meant to speak up and say that he’d never say that because it just wasn’t true, his hand moved again, this time sparking up his own magic, and the threads wrapped around his soul squeezed and magic leaked over them, dripping down over his spine and pelvis, staining them bright blue.  “P-PAPYRUS IS NOT YOUR BROTHER… S-SO WE AREN’T ONE AND THE SAME!   _AHHH…!_ A-AND NO AMOUNT OF L-LEWD… THINGS… W-WILL EVER CHANGE THAT!  W-WE ARE DIFFERENT!!  OH, P-P-PAPYRUS…”

“ W̵̴͝h̛i̷͞͞ch̀͝ ҉P̷̴ą̸̸p̨͜ý̷r̶ư͏̕s̨̛͡ a҉r͝͠e̡̧͞ ҉͢͡ý̴̷ou̶ ̴̢ća͝l̛lįng̵͘ ̡t̢o? ҉ ̧Y̴̕͞o̶ų̴͜r̷ ҉͝b̵̧ro̵͢͡t̵̴h̷̴e̷r͘, ̢ẁh̡͡o̷̸m̢̀ ̕͡y̨o͟u ̷l̷o̢v́͞é ̡͏a̴͝n͏̕d ̸͘de҉̴sì̷͏r͞҉̸e̸?͏ ̶ ̸̨҉Yoừr͠ ͡͞'̸̛s̀͝k͘e҉l̷̷é͜͡f̸͢r̶̡͠í͘e͘ń̨́d̕͡'͠,͏ ̨̛w͡͝ḩ͝͝ò̶̸m҉͠͞ ́͘͡ý̧͡o͜͜u ̴̀c͝a͞n͏ ̴҉m͜a̴͟k̶̶̡e ̢lov҉ȩ ̴to̵ ẃ̸̡į̧t͘ḩ͘͞o͘͢ù̸͘t̸ ͏͏f̴̀͠ȩe̸͞ĺ͞i͡͡ng̶ ͜͡g͘ưi̢lt̢y͠ ̡͡o͞r҉̨ s̕įn̷ful̸̢̀?͜ ͘͟͝ ̕͠W̴҉h͠͡į̸c͟h ͘͡o͝҉̧n̷͟e͘̕?̀͘ ”  The threads started multiplying, both his hands moving, magic dripping down from his soul and sparkling all over his bones… Sans was writhing on the spot, reduced to shivering and whimpering and pleading for Papyrus - he didn’t even know which Papyrus he was pleading for anymore… either one, both, another one entirely… did it even matter anymore, he wondered?

“P-PAPYRUS, AHH…”  His bones felt like they would fracture, his soul like it would shatter, the strings wound around them taut and singing with each pull, and the glitchy version of himself was getting high-strung as well, his image shivering and wavering more and more badly.

 

“ Wͣ̊̈́̀́ͣ͐̒͗̉͋͝͏̸̛̘̼̫̠̝̥͖͖͚̘̰̲͔͇͡ͅͅH̴̛̘̫͚͙̘̹̬̟̝̫͇̼̹̤͚ͪ͑̊̏̓̿͗̋̐͜͢Ì̤͖̣͚͚̬̖̥̩̩̩̭̰̪̦̈́ͩͫ̽̓̅̀͢͠ͅČ̴͖̖͉̻̖̭̬͎̺͖͇̲͉͇̯̰̱̣̋́ͦ̑͒͑͋̾ͫ͋ͨͤͬ̄ͩ̀̚H̢̹̬̦̙͍̹̜̣͕̪̭̖̯̘̬̼̤ͯ͋ͧ̇ͬͫ̄̓̂͂̚͠͡ͅ ̸̠͓̻̱͙͈̞̼̟̥̳̫̟̺͈̃ͦ̒́̒̐͑̑ͯ͟͞Ỡ̴̝̭̰͙̩̞͚͍̙̝͛͑̂̆͢ͅͅN̶̸̳̥͎̗̥̝͚̣̙̒͋̋̾̋̆̉ͭ͞E̡͕̩͉͓͗̈̎̃ͯ̈ͤ͋̑̒͐̐ͨͦ̓̐̚͟͜͜?̛͙̦͍̟̲̾ͧ̍̿ͬ͆̔́ͭ̿͑ͥ̌͋͂́̅̕͠!̸̢̘̩͚͉̙̫́͒ͭ̑ͭ͛͌͆̈͗ͭ́̚͘ͅͅ ̸̷ͯ̑ͬ̏̓̿ͫ͋̿̇ͧ͗ͫ̆̀̓ͨͤ̚҉̤̲̲̱̝̗̞͓̫͙̲ ̛̖̳̙̖͚̜͚͉̜͔̪͔͍̭͖͔̘̃ͮͮ̉͝͝W̶̨͈͙̥̘̞̟̹͙͖̠̮͖ͦ̑̄̂̈́̋ͤͥ̅͑ͤͧ͂̎̄̅͜H͑͑͑͋ͪ͗ͭͭͪ͆̍҉̷͝͏̵̼͚̥̭̮̫̱̯I͈̖̠͖̮̲͈͔͔͔̹͖ͫ̋́̈́͒̿ͫ̆ͪ̃͐̾̊̈́͋̒ͨͥ́͡C̶̹̩̝͈̜̣̝̞̺͓̓̇̾̃̑͑̿͗ͩ́H̢̝͙̮̦̍́ͬ̌͗̃̏̓ͥ͐ͯ̈́ͬͦ͐̎͞ ̧͍̝̘̖͚̩̮͇̟̬̟͓̱͍̻ͬ͋ͯ̔̔̍̎͊̅͊ͭ͋̚̕P͛̃̓ͬ̀͋̇̊̽̂̔̾̎͑ͣͭ̚̚҉̢͉͓̥̤̞̫̟͖̰̫̤͔̭̦̳A̙̞̯̲̪̺̝͖̞ͪͫ̊ͨͬ͢͞Pͣ̆̇ͤ҉̺̖͇̬͢͡Y͎͕̱̥̩̤̱̘̰̙̭͈̜̯̤͔̓̋̅̿ͥ̄ͣ̉̈́ͥ͛͋ͮ̐̔̍͡ͅṚ̸̵̡̬͓͚̹̦͔̞̀̇͊̾ͫ̎ͮͩ̑͐̽ͦ́̾ͩ̐ͤ̅͌̀͡U͑̊̋͗͐́ͣ͂̓ͫͩ̅̓͆̂҉̴̗̥͖̩͖͖̝̘̬̭͈́S̵̨̲͉̲̜̝̘̭̱̫̱̰̤͍͙͗͑̿͌̍̉͢?̷̡̤̤͓̳̲̠̺͕̭̳̳̬̲̭̟̳̜̳̈́̓̈́͑ͥ̄͂̒̈́ͯͯ͌́̂͝!̷͈̥͕̠̳͋̔́͋̓̆ͥ̒̀͢ ̡͍͎̯̥̗̭̞̥̬͕̤̝̮͔̋̏̃ͩ͜͜ ͙̬̺͓̤̟̟̞̙̙͍̱͈̳̄ͪͥ͋̋ͣ̈͋̍͡͠Ş̷ͩ͛̅͋͘͝͏̮̠͓͈̬̤̰̦͔̤̼͙̹̘̰͎͇ͅͅÁ̵̷̩̝̗̦̩̗̩̹̦̯̠͎̱͈̹̼̰̎ͬ̒ͭ̏̀ͧ́͝Y̫͍̮̣̎̂ͯ̋ͦͮ̌̌ͪ̐̆̐ͧ͘͟͟ ̶̢̪͍̟̫̖̞̪̲̩͔̝̝̠̮̜̄ͦ̈́ͤ̃͊ͯ̽͋͑͘͡͞I̡̝̖͖̣̦̗͍͉̩̠͈̝͓̳͎̔ͬ̐̓̌ͮͦ̈́̀̚͠͠Ţ̸̴̡̧̘̣̹̙̺̪͇͈̪̟̭͚͌̉́ͣ̌̔͋ͬ̽͋͒͛̓̏!̸̲͓͍̗͚̝̥͓̺͕̿̾ͣ̒ͫ̆̓ͩ̓̄̎̉̿ͭ͜͜͝ͅͅ!̵̨̦̜̰͇͙̙̻̮̹̝̬͇̭̘̟͔ͮ̆̄̾̏̂̌̆̓ͤ̉ͬͪ̒ͮ͗”

“PAPYYYYYRUUUUUSSSS!!”  It was just one pull too many, and Sans lost it, magic and tears leaking from him as he collapsed onto his knees, the strings snapping one by one.  Then, as the forcibly gained pleasure died away again, Sans curled up, heedless of the fact that he smeared his armor with his own bright blue residue, and whimpered the same word over and over in between sobs.  “ _PAPYRUS… P-PAPYRUS… PAPYRUS…”_

“ .̕.̛.͢P̵͞-̛͠p͏a̵͡t̸̶he̢͜t́͡i͏̴c̷.̛͘..̀”, Error Sans said as he opened a random portal to another universe he’d been set to erase, leaving behind his ‘friend’.


	15. Magic on my pillowcase (fontcest sin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by, but not based on, a NSFW audio by fillsyouwithdirtysins, to whom I am greatly indebted for the neverending slew of inspiration, lewdness and joy he provides me with, not to mention he was the incentive for me to start dabbling in voice acting as well! If you're reading this, man, you are the greatest and I hope you'll never fall without praise and happiness in life!

“ahhh… h-hehhh… n-no… no… n o o o ! ! !”  Sans’ head shot off his pillow as the vision of his nightmares dissipated, being replaced by the dark but familiar confines of his bedroom.  “h-haaahhh… s-shit…”  He’d seen it again, the part where he died, the part where the world drowned in dust and blood, the part where a demon swept through him and then into the overworld…  But that was just a _possibility_ , he told himself, an alternate outcome… not certain, not fixed, _not true_.  No demons lurked among the monsters; no evil humans were going around murdering every monster they set their sights on.  It was just a nightmare…  “shit… i really gotta lay off the ketchup that late at night…”, he berated himself in an attempt to soothe his nerves again, rolling his eyes when the effect was off.  “…yeah, shoulda figured it wouldn’t work on _myself…”_ He turned to the side, wanting to get up out of bed to go to Papyrus’ room and ask his brother whether he could stay the night again, but then he felt the outlines of a large pillow laying next to his bed and he sighed.  Papyrus was at Undyne’s for a _late-night training session_  which probably meant he was watching MTT shows or anime with her while eating their home-cooked spaghetti; the pillow was his ‘nightmare insurance’, something he could hold onto of Papyrus’ to ‘keep the bad dreams at bay’.  It was a poor substitute, but that night it would have to do. _“…_ man, if only paps was here, he’d know exactly what to say…”

Papyrus, his younger brother, was the optimist of the two of them.  Energetic and bright-spirited, nothing could get his brother down - it was something Sans had lost long ago, those qualities, and as such he admired them all the more in his brother.  Papyrus was always ready for the next challenge, never without energy or a positive thing to say.  His spaghetti was next to inedible and his dreams of joining the Royal Guard were wishful thinking at best, but that did not stop him from continuing to work hard and strive for perfection.  And Sans loved that.

He loved his brother, adored his brother.  In a lot of ways.

…Even in the way that other monsters would frown upon, he caught himself thinking with a guilty blush.

He’d realized it first when Papyrus had invited him to sleep in his racecar bed after another nightmare: his brother’s scent hung heavy in those sheets, the faintest tingle of his brother’s skeleton-body-warmth warmed his own bones far more than it had any right to… and while Papyrus snoozed peacefully, Sans’ magic had crawled along his bones and made it impossible to sleep.  He was surprised Papyrus hadn’t sussed it out; then again, Papyrus was innocent as the driven snow.  He’d never done anything like soul-touching as far as Sans knew, had never had any interest in other monsters other than purely platonical…

“ah, paps is perfect…”, Sans whispered in the dark, grinning and blushing as he pulled the pillow up onto the mattress, hugging it like he’d hug his brother.  Coming down from a nightmare was the only time where Papyrus allowed him to actually _cling_ to him, and Sans’ feelings being what they were, he didn’t protest in the slightest.  The pillow proved once again to be a poor substitute, but it gave off the faint smell of bones and various MTT-brand products that Papyrus used, the amalgamation of scents combining into the typical smell of his brother, and Sans found himself inhaling just to absorb the smell better.  His magic tingled at the surface of his bones lightly, beckoningly, and Sans groaned.  “’s thinkin’ of paps like that really the only way i’m gonna let those bad dreams go tonight, huh?”, he aimlessly asked himself, knowing the answer when his legs wrapped around the bottom of the pillow possessively.  Well, Papyrus wasn’t home, and he could get away with things that he would never be able to get away with if his brother was actually in the house… and the pillow was especially chosen by his brother because it was _just as tall as him_ …  “ah _damn_ …”, Sans groaned, feeling his magic coalesce in his shorts in a shape both familiar and unbidden considering that it was _his brother_ on his mind.  But what monster was there to see him?

Groaning in frustration, Sans ground his hips against the pillow lightly, the friction the motion provided more than enough to push aside his hesitation.

“ahh, fuck… ‘s not like… like anyone’s gonna know… e-ever…”, he muttered, grinding his hips against the pillow again, this time more firmly and garnering enough friction to get him to moan softly.  “ahh, _paps…  f-fuck_ , this feels… s-so good…”  His hips had a life of their own by that point, the coalescence of his magic right at the front so sensitive to every last roll of his hips into the stiff shape of the pillow, imagining that it wasn’t just a pillow he was dry-humping but _his brother_ …  “ah, _p-paps_ , if you only knew…”, Sans admitted, feeling sparkles of magic form on his bones just as sweat would form on a human’s skin.  “…ah, y-you’re so damn handsome… s-so… _great_ …  i _r-really wish this was you…_ ”  His legs squeezed the bottom of the pillow more tightly in an attempt to garner more friction as he moaned into the darkness of his room - but what did it matter, who was around to hear it?

What did it matter, if his brother wsn’t there to bear witness to his deviance?

“p-paps, _ahh_ …  c-c’mon…”  His position left a lot to be desired, he found, the friction nowhere near enough stimulation to fuel his fantasies.  “i-it isn’t enough… m-maybe if i… get on top of it…”, he mused, deciding to go for it: getting up on his knees, he crawled on top of the tall pillow and then, dropping to hands and knees, he thrust downward into the pillow.  Instantly, his spine shivered at the wave of pleasure that answered the motion.  “ _d-damn…!_   paps… m-man…”  His fantasy didn’t waver anymore now, at least: his younger brother was there, underneath him, looking up at him glowingly, lovingly, begging him to explain this feeling, this burning, this longing.  And Sans was all too happy to explain.  “m-mmmh, paps… i wanna tell you - _uhn!_ \- a-all about this… _ahh yeah…_ s-shit, so  _intense…_ so good…  ah, paps, i wanna s-show you… how perfect it can be… t-to do these k-kinds of things… _ahhh…_ i w-wanna teach ya how to… f-feel _pleasure_ …”  Pleasure… he was feeling _so much_ of that himself, with every thrust of his hips into the pillow - _into his brother’s bones_ , because he imagined the friction to be bone upon bone instead of magic rubbing against cloth, and Papyrus’ gasps and moans replaced the sound of the pillow crunching underneat him as his thrusts increased in speed.  He was burning inside, his soul crackling with magic, great sparkles off it oozing from his bones, rolling over the porous structure of his body like droplets of sweat would roll over a human’s skin…

He was _lost_.

“mmnnnh… p-paps… fuck, ‘m so close… stars, i’m gonna… g-gonna- _ahh!”_ Arching his spine to press his entire body against the pillow, Sans dove over the edge, shivering and groaning as his hips bucked downward.  A few more shivering thrusts and he stilled, flopping down again onto the pillow before rolling sideways, ending up in his original position of hugging the pillow close with both arms and legs wrapped around it.  His shorts glowed a bright blue from the residue his magic had left there, and sparks of magic still shone on his skull and exposed bones, but other than those temporary bits of evidence, there was nothing to show his transgression.  “…d-damn it… that was… s-somethin’ else…”, he whispered happily, nearly closing his eyes until a creak of the floor had him fully awake and alert again.  “w-wait… what-?”

“B-BROTHER…?  W-WHAT… WHY WERE YOU… S-SAYING MY NAME WHEN YOU WERE… D-DOING _THAT_?”


	16. Haste makes waste (Papyton sin)

“…Oh my god…”  Mettaton felt like his battery was drained, even if it was still completely fine.  So far, he’d had to bake three quiches - the lighting was apparently malfunctioning so they couldn’t use the first two shots - interview Icedrake the comedian, and then _lay completely immobile for two hours_ for his sixth movie.  All of it was terribly tedious, and his soul felt numb in its container, yearning for something to rattle it awake again.  Unfortunately, the chance of finding something to breathe fresh air into his day was very slim.  “ _Ugh…_ could this day not get any better?!”, he muttered to himself pitifully.  His shooting schedule did leave him with a gap of half an hour in which to recharge, but he really didn’t want to hook himself up to the outlet and go offline, and thirty minutes was too short to do anything exciting in!

“M-METTATON!!”

…or was it?  Looking up from the schedule he’d been checking, he found his bonefriend Papyrus bounding towards him with large, excited steps.  And suddenly thirty minutes seemed ample time to kickstart his soul again.

“Papyrus, _darling_ , you’re a _godsend_ right now… come on in!”, he said cheerfully, turning behind him to find the minute assistant that was always tailing him.  With as much sweetness as he could still force into his voice, he spoke to her: “…Dilys, sweetheart, please make sure I am _not_ disturbed by _anyone_ until five minutes to showtime?  I want to replenish my reserves in peace.”

“W-w-will d-do!”, she squeaked, running off down the hallway and leaving Mettaton to enter his dressing room, where Papyrus was sitting down on his easy chair in the corner.

“…I THOUGHT YOU DID GREAT TODAY, METTATON!  EVEN IF YOU LOOKED VERY TIRED WHEN YOUR LAST BIT WAS DONE…”, Papyrus spoke with somewhat startling wisdom, grinning broadly after a split second’s contemplation: “BUT THEN AGAIN, YOU, MY HOTFUL BOTFRIEND, ARE ABSOLUTELY EXQUISITE AT ALL TIMES!! NYEH HEH!”

“Oh, Papyrus… you really are so wonderful at cheering me up when my day gets tedious… and you really are the greatest bonefriend I could wish for…”  He walked over to Papyrus, who looked at the chair he was sitting in and instantly got up, leaning against the wall next to it.

“OH!  I’M SORRY TO JUST… TAKE OVER YOUR CHAIR LIKE THAT, METTATON!”  It nearly made the robotic star laugh: Papyrus was always so oblivious, thinking he wanted the _chair_  at that time… it was an illusion he planned to get rid of as soon as he could, which turned out to be a second later.  Placing his hands on either side of Papyrus’ shoulders, he leaned in close, prompting an instant and deep blush to spread over the skeleton’s cheekbones.  “M-METTA…?”

“Who said you needed to get out of the chair, Pappy, darling?  …Come and sit with me…”

“B-BUT YOU… D-DON’T YOU NEED TO RECH-CHARGE?”, the skeleton stammered helplessly, though he didn’t protest or struggle when Mettaton grabbed his bony wrist and pulled him gently back to the chair, setting him down in it before swinging one leg over him and settling down on his lap.  “N-NOT THAT I M-MIND-”

“…My batteries are fine, I need a _different_ kind of pick-me-up, Pappy… something to get my soul back in the game…”  He seductively trailed one hand down Papyrus’ ‘battle body’ over his sternum, pulling it up as he moved his hand back up, unsurprised by the slight sparkles of magic that instantly started seeping from his bonefriend at the motion.  His own magic was already there to meet it, great big sparks of it, blossoming forth from his joints and his fingertips.  “Oh, _Papyrus_ , you’re just too handsome and you’ve  _always_ got me so _eager_ for you…  indulge me?”

“I… I…”  Papyrus squirmed underneath him a little, but that didn’t much help his position; if anything, _more_ magic seeped from his bones at the friction, and finally the skeleton relented with a sigh that was happier than the situation strictly warranted.  Apparently things were the same for him, Mettaton found himself considering.  “N-NYEH, I CAN’T DENY THAT I… W-WANT YOU TOO…”

“Then _have me, Pappy~”_ , Mettaton whispered before kissing his bonefriend deeply and needfully, his metallic tongue tracing the inside of Papyrus’ mouth before being greeted by the magically-formed tongue of his partner, sending a shiver of increased longing down his metallic spine.  He supposed it wasn’t so much need as the incredible desire to unwind, finally, that fuelled him… but making love to Papyrus, even hurriedly so, was a far better option than touching his own soul or the simulated sexual organs Alphys had gifted him with.  That would be hollow, empty; with Papyrus it was always _perfect_.  The reason why became clear when Papyrus huffed impatiently and detached from their kiss to gently rub his teeth along Mettaton’s neck, sending a whimper through the robot’s vocal transmitter.  “ _Ahhh!”_

 _“M-METTATON…_ Y-YOU ONLY HAVE… A L-LITTLE TIME… I DON’T W-WANT YOU… TO GO BACK ON STAGE U-UNSATISFIED… SO PARDON MY IMPATIENCE…”

“D-darling… _oh!_ Y-you don’t have to say sorry… I _want it fast, too_ …  mmmhhh…”  Papyrus’ bony fingers were running all over his chassis, front _and_ back, feeling out all the grooves and seams of his body even though time was of the essence.  It was that never-wavering attention to detail and propriety that made Mettaton love his bony sweetheart the most, and now it heightened the pleasure Papyrus’ caresses brought.  Then, with a soft ‘clink’, Mettaton’s soul container was opened and his soul gently taken into Papyrus’ skeletal hands and touched reverently, and Mettaton moaned loudly.  “Ohh  _yesss, Pappy…!”_

 _“_ M-METTATON… YOU LOOK SO… SO PERFECT…  I FEEL EVER SO HONORED… T-THAT I AM THE ONE TO HOLD YOUR SOUL… _N-NYEHHH!!”_ Papyrus moaned as well when Mettaton carefully reached inside his ribcage and palmed his soul in turn, prompting it to glow all the more fiercely and magic to crackle along Papyrus’ bones.  “M-METTATON… S-SWEETBOT… YOU D-DON’T HA-HAVE TO… _N-NYUHH…”_

 _“_ Nonsense, P-Pappy…  w-we do this _together_ …  I want to s-see you in heaven with me… ahhh, _baby!”_ , the robot squealed out when Papyrus’ phalanges dug into the already-viscous surface of his soul and moved in slow circles.  “Oh y-yessss… that feels _amazing_ , sugarskull… _mmmmh…”_

 _“_ A-ALL FOR YOU… M-MY WONDERFUL SWEETB-B-BOT…!”, Papyrus said, very gently pressing his hips up against Mettaton’s synthetic behind, creating extra friction that gave the robotic television star an idea…

“P-pappy… oh, darling…  d-do you… want something even b-better…?  Then _go ahead_ …  Shape your magic, y-you know you want to…”

“M-METTATON?  T-THERE’S NO TIME F-FOR…”, Papyrus protested, squirming again when his botfriend pulled the lower half of his ‘battle body’ down to expose his pelvis, magic already gathering and coalescing there despite his outward reluctance.

“Mmm, look at that… t-there’ll be _ample_ time, Pappy… maybe not for you to take me, no, but for my intents… mmhmhm…”  The skeleton either ceased his protests or his magic had a mind of its own, because it took maybe two seconds longer for the magical genitalia to form, a perfect replica of the ‘equipment’ Mettaton himself possessed.  “N-now…”, Mettaton whispered, pressing his own metallic body against Papyrus’ magical equivalent, garnering him a sharp, pleasure-filled gasp from his bonefriend and making his own magic sizzle on his chassis.  It felt too good… that meant it would work like a charm.  “Ahh, y-yes…  P-papyrus, darling… y-you keep fingering my soul… and I’ll… handle _this side_ …”  Closing his free hand around both of their members, Mettaton very gently thrust against Papyrus, causing them to rub together _so very tightly_.

“N-NYEHHHH…!  M-METTATON… S-SWEETBOT…  P-PLEASE… MORE…  IT’S S-SO GOOD…”, Papyrus whimpered, his fingers sunk in Mettaton’s soul and moving at a more hurried pace while his bones shivered and rattled just a little.  The robot was all too willing and happy to oblige his bonefriend’s request, thrusting into his hold and against Papyrus’ magic-turned-flesh in a steady rhythm that had his soul feel like it would liquify in seconds.  “AHH…  M-MORE, F-FASTER… OH, METTATON… M-MY SWEETEST B-BOTFRIEND… MY  _EVERYTHING_ …!”, Papyrus crooned, his spine now arched and his shoulderblades pressing hard against the easy chair, which creaked with each of Mettaton’s thrusts into his own hand.  He was close now, so close, magic brimming all over him, crackling in Papyrus’ hand, like lightning looking to arc its way to the heavens… and then, Papyrus _squeezed_ and he lost it.

“ _Ohhh y-YESSSS!!”_ His body and his magic got a mind of their own, wildly moving against Papyrus, wrapping around the skeleton like fire consuming dry wood, and Papyrus’ resulting cry of ‘NYEEHHHH!” only added to the blaze.  All too soon, however, the inferno turned back to a gentle fire and then the flames abated altogether, leaving Mettaton sweaty and slightly sticky from their mutual magical residues but feeling up to another five hours of filming shows.  “…Oh, darling… look at you…”, he breathed out, settling for a second against Papyrus’ form.  The skeleton was still shivering, his hand covered in glittering pink residue and his pelvis and lower spine splattered by a combination of inky blue and shimmering pink fluids much like Mettaton was.  “I do think I like this look on you… the look of a skeleton well worn out by a handsome robot…”

“I THINK I LIKE THIS LOOK ON ME TOO… BUT NOT AS MUCH AS I LIKE _YOU_ ON ME…”, Papyrus lazily admitted, the cheek in his words startling Mettaton for a second.

“ _Pappy!”_ Then, however, he couldn’t help but laugh softly and kiss Papyrus’ jaw lovingly.  “Mmm, my sweet sugarskull, I do agree, you’ve never looked better than when I am all over you…  But for now, I think-”  A discreet knock on the door halted his words, and Mettaton looked up.

“Five minutes to showtime, mister Mettaton!!”

“Alright, Dilys, sweetie, I’ll be out in four!!”, he called back, kissing Papyrus lightly on the teeth before slowly getting up and off him again.  “…Mmm, you know, if you hang around here a little… we can go for dinner after my day of shooting is over…”, he suggested - for a second, it looked like Papyrus would protest, but then he nodded.

“NYEH, THAT SOUNDS EXQUISITE, METTATON, SWEETBOT!  YOU ARE THE GREATEST BOTFRIEND!”

“Only because I’ve got the greatest bonefriend in the world, darling…”, Mettaton said, swishing his hips a little as he went to his dressing table to clean himself off.


	17. Getting flushed (FellPapyton sin)

“W-where are you taking me?”, Mettaton asked as Papyrus hurriedly pulled him along outside of the human resort’s restaurant.  He knew what was on his skeleton’s mind (how could he _not_ know, half the restaurant probably knew with the way his breeches glowed blood red) but it wasn’t like Papyrus to suddenly drag him off…  “I… p-please not back to Alphys’… s-she doesn’t like-”

“OH, _BE QUIET_ …”, Papyrus said in a low growl, stepping through the foyer of the resort and then through a door off to the side, into…

“…A… bathroom?”  Ever since they’d finally come to the surface and had mingled with the humans - which hadn’t been an easy feat, seeing as they were all monsters with a penchant for violence and the darker side of things - they had been forced to allow a number of things to change in their lives.  One of the most drastic changes were bathrooms.  Monsters didn’t need them, but humans did, and every human home had a bathroom so monster homes had to be equipped with them as well just in case humans came over to visit…  “Papyrus-”

“SHUSH…”  The skeleton pushed them into one of the stalls, closing the door behind him and then unbuttoning his pants, shoving them down to expose his already fully-formed magic dick.  “I NEED TO FUCK YOU, METTA… I NEED TO FILL YOU UP WITH MY MAGIC, MAKE YOU GLOW RED FROM THE INSIDE… I NEED TO MAKE YOU MINE, RIGHT HERE AND RIGHT NOW…”, he whispered greedily, pulling Mettaton in for a deep, rough kiss that had the robot aching for his lover just as much as Papyrus clearly was aching for him.

“Mmmh, y-yes, Papyrus… I want you to fuck me… I _need_ you to fuck me… need to feel you inside of me…”, he whimpered out, prompting a chuckle from Papyrus right before the skeleton sat down on top of the human toilet.

“WELL THEN, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?  GET TO WORK, METTA… RIDE ME…”

“Oh, with pleasure…”, Mettaton crooned, pulling his spandex leggings low enough to expose his rear before settling himself in Papyrus’ lap, grinding his ass backwards against his lover and gaining a groan.

“MMMH… F-FUCK, METTATON…  I SAID _RIDE ME,_ NOT… H-HUHHHNNHH…”

“Tsk-tsk, _patience_ , Papyrus… let me get myself _ready_ for you…”, Mettaton tried, only for Papyrus to grunt and grab his hips, lifting him off before slamming him down _forcefully_ onto his magic length.  Without any kind of lubrification, it felt slightly painful, and Mettaton gasped loudly before speaking.  “P-papyrus, what… _nnnh…”_

“I AM NOT THE PATIENT TYPE, METTA… F-FUCK, BUT YOU’RE TIGHT…”

“Y-you’re going to _break_ me…!”, Mettaton sobbed softly, only for Papyrus to shake his head and gently run a gloved finger over Mettaton’s cheek, moving down towards his shoulder.

“YOU’VE TAKEN FAR WORSE THAN THIS BEFORE… DAMN… I WON’T GO ALL-OUT HERE… W-WE STILL NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO AT HOME, AFTER ALL… BUT YOU CAN BET YOUR SWEET FUCKIN’ ASS YOU’LL BE WALKING OUT OF HERE FUNNY!  AHH… Y-YEAH… NOW _RIDE ME_ , MY LITTLE PET - BUT REMEMBER, _KEEP QUIET…_ HUMANS COME IN HERE ALL OF THE TIME, AND IF THEY KNOW WHAT WE ARE DOING IN HERE?  WE’LL GET THROWN OUT…”, Papyrus groaned out, very subtly rolling his hips up, and Mettaton nodded, powering through the pain as he rose his hips just an inch and then pushed back down slowly.  The pain was still there but it slowly went away.  He supposed he could have a talk to Alphys later to ask her why she’d felt the need to wire _pain sensors_ to his insides, but then again he wanted to limit his interactions with Alphys to a bare minimum, seeing as she wasn’t the patient type either.  For now, there was little he could do apart from just keep on going and hope that his processors would filter the pain out eventually.

“M-mmhh…”, he groaned, moving slowly, hoping that Papyrus would forgive him his slower pace, and for a moment he thought the skeleton was in a forgiving mood… but then Papyrus pulled his legs up so his high-heeled boots rested on Papyrus’ knees and pulled him down with a loud grunt that Mettaton couldn’t help but answer with a whimper.  “ _Nnnngh!”_

"YOU TAKE TOO LONG!  WE DON’T HAVE ALL NIGHT HERE, YOU KNOW!  HURRY UP AND RIDE ME, MY LITTLE METTA-PET… THE LONGER YOU TAKE, THE HARDER I’LL END UP TAKING YOU, AFTER ALL…”, the skeleton said slowly and possessively, thrusting up to meet Mettaton’s next motion and sinking himself in deep.  “…AND REMEMBER, DON’T LET THE HUMANS THAT COME IN HERE SUSS OUT THAT WE’RE FUCKING… NO MATTER HOW HARD WE’RE GOING… N-NYEH, AHHH, _METTA…_ F-FUCK, YOU’RE SO TIGHT…”  Despite the pain, Mettaton could feel clear and distinct pleasure from the position as well: Papyrus’ magic felt so sinfully good when buried to the hilt in his body, and his soul ached with want by that point.

“P-Papyrus… finger my soul… oh, please, my magnificent Papyrus… I want to feel your fingers in my soul and-”

Then, however, the door opened, and footsteps sounded on the tiled floor.  Fortunately, when the sound of a zipper being pulled down ensued, followed by the sound of tinkling water, Mettaton knew it would only be a short visit and he resumed his movements, slowly and silently this time.  Papyrus also waited with his groan until the door closed again and the footsteps died away.

“METTA… YOU’LL GET YOUR TURN… FIRST I W-WANT TO FILL YOU UP… SH-SHOOT MY MAGIC RIGHT INTO YOU, MAKE YOU GLOW FOR ME LIKE A LIGHTBULB… DROWN YOUR SOUL IN MY MAGIC… _OH FUCK NYEAH…_ Y-YOUR ASS IS SO TIGHT, FEELS GODDAMN AMAZING… _FASTER,_ PET!”, he growled out, and Mettaton sobbed, feeling mostly pain but also the dawning of a rush of pleasure as he pushed his hips down hard, his silicone buttcheeks colliding with Papyrus’ pelvis a little harder than intended but getting the result he wanted anyways.  “ _NYEHHHH… OH FUCKING HELL…”_

Another creak of the door, more footsteps, more sound of rushing water.  Papyrus groaned very, very silently, but the person out there didn’t seem to take any heed of the sound, leaving without any further ado; Mettaton was intent to wait until the door was closed in order to start moving again, but Papyrus clearly had other plans, pulling him down hard and thrusting up at the same time, slamming himself as deep inside of the robot as he could.

“ _Oh P-papyrus!_ …oh g-god…  I… p-please, my soul… j-just a little…”  Papyrus’ hand moved over his leg to his groin, idly fingering the metal equivalent to male human genitalia Alphys had outfitted him with, and Mettaton changed track in a soul’s flutter: “O-or jerk me off, baby!  Yes… yes, touch me like that, j-just to make it feel even better… ohh, I’ll come so hard for you, Papyrus, i-if you just… _uhhhn!”_ One gloved hand closed tightly around his metallic dick, immobile, but when Mettaton moved, he found that the motion resulted in the friction he needed on that thin and extra-sensitive part of his chassis.  Suddenly he no longer felt the need to complain to Alphys about the sensors anymore; suddenly he found the pleasure far outweighing the pain.  “ _Oh, Papyrus…!”_ , he breathed out shakily as he started a more vigorous rhythm of rolling his hips, pressing down onto the skeleton’s magic member hard before thrusting his hips up into that gloved hand.

“Y-YEAHH… JUST LIKE THAT, METTA… OH, YOU GORGEOUS FUCKING PLAYTHING, YOU’LL BE FULL TO BURSTING IN N-NO TIME… UHHH N-NYESSSS…”, Papyrus breathed out, rolling his hips into the motions as well, resulting in a much deeper and satisfying penetration, growling soft nothings into the stagnant air between them… then, the door opened again, and Papyrus breathed out shakily before thrusting up again with a soft groan.  Mettaton’s eyes flew open, but before he could let the moan that had formed slip, he bit down on one of his free hands to muffle the sound.  Papyrus had to be close, if his continuation was any sign - close enough to release to no longer care about the world around them, at any rate - and he kept his moans muffled at the least.  However, the human that had visited the toilet clearly still heard them, because the next thing the two monsters knew, he paused and spoke.

“H-hey dude, you allright in there?”

“N-NYES… MAYBE EATING THE SUSHI WAS A BAD IDEA ON MY PART… N-NOTHING THAT CANNOT BE FIXED WITH-”  Mettaton got the idea to tease and, soundlessly, wiggled his hips a little, creating enough friction to make Papyrus groan.  “ _NYUUUHHHHNN…”_ Mettaton knew he’d catch hell for it in one way or another, especially if the human heard the pleasure that laced Papyrus’ voice, but the stars favored the robotic monster that evening in one more way than they already had, because the human took a shaky step back.

“…u-uh, ‘kay… I’ll, uh, l-leave you to your… eww…”  He didn’t so much back out of the restroom as _bolt_ out.  The second the door closed, Papyrus grabbed Mettaton’s hips _hard_ and pushed the both of them back to an upright position before pressing the robot _hard_ against the tiled wall.

“YOU WERE LUCKY THAT HUMAN DID NOT SUSPECT ANYTHING… WELL, IF YOU WANT TO MAKE ME MOAN THAT MUCH, LET’S SEE HOW SILENT _YOU_ CAN BE!”  Mettaton meant to speak and apologise, but the words were ripped from his throat when Papyrus pulled him roughly towards the toilet again, pushing him onto it.  “KNEEL HERE, MY LITTLE METTA-PET, SO I CAN WRECK YOU LIKE YOU NEED TO BE WRECKED… NY _EHH!!”_ With one fluent thrust, Papyrus embedded himself into the robot’s ass once more, deep from the very first motion, and Mettaton whimpered in pure pleasure, even more so when Papyrus hissed to him.  “AND _JERK YOURSELF OFF NOW!_ I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU PAINT THAT TOILET PINK, MY PRETTY LITTLE PET… AND YOUR INSIDES GROW SO FUCKING TIGHT AND HOT WHEN YOU’RE ENJOYING YOURSELF… GO AHEAD, BRING YOURSELF OFF QUICK… I WON’T HOLD ANYTHING BACK ANYMORE, EVEN IF THERE’D BE A _HUNDRED_ HUMANS IN HERE WITH US!”

“Oh, Papyrus… I _love_ it when you talk like that, baby…”, Mettaton admitted, wrapping one of his own hands around his metallic dick and jerking himself off in perfect sync to the thrusts of his lover.  Both of them were completely absorbed by their pleasure at that point, panting and moaning loudly and whimpering for the other to keep it up, and after a short while Papyrus’ hand joined Mettaton’s, then replacing it, and the tight gloved hold of the skeletal hand proved too much stimulation.  “Ohh _yessss!!”_ Two thrusts saw Mettaton arch his metal spine and deliver a load of sticky soul-produced goop from his metallic dick onto the toilet, splattering its pristine white exterior with shocking deep pink.  A second later saw Papyrus finish too with an exultant moan of his name, _his_ magic residue getting siphoned into Mettaton’s soul container and tinting it a vivid red that only slowly filtered away.  Spent for the moment, Papyrus staggered backwards, his magic fizzling out of his grasp; Mettaton got up off the toilet as soon as he could, careful not to smear any more of his magical residue on himself as he pulled his pants up.

“I THINK WE MIGHT HAVE TO LEAVE QUICKLY NOW, BEFORE THEY SEE THE MESS WE MADE - AND BEFORE THOSE LOVELY SPANDEX PANTS OF YOURS STAIN RED AT THE BOTTOM, METTA…”, Papyrus said, grinning.

“Mmhmm, that sounds like a good idea - though _I don’t care_ if they see the mess.  I _tripled_ the value of this toilet with my lovely magic!”, the robot huffed, prompting a raucous laugh out of his skeletal lover.

“NYEH HEH!  YES, YOU MOST CERTAINLY DID!  …BUT LET’S LEAVE NOW.  I BELIEVE I PROMISED YOU SOMETHING MORE… _FULFILLING…_ TO ROUND OUR NIGHT OFF, NO?”, he said teasingly, brushing his gloved hand over Mettaton’s still-sensitive bottom, causing the robot to moan.  There was no way he was ready for more at that time - his body needed a few moments to recalibrate after the sensory overload, after all - but the prospect of all-out, no holds barred lovemaking with this prickly skeleton of his?

“…Did I mention yet how much I _love_ you, my sweet insatiable Papyrus?”

“I BELIEVE YOUR BODY DID THE TALKING, MY LITTLE METTA-PET… AND I AM INSATIABLE _ONLY FOR YOU_ …”


	18. It's a lot like life (Underfell Papyton sin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a lyric ;3 you should look it up!

“SAY IT.”  Mettaton could only look up - well, he could hardly do anything else with the way Papyrus was tugging on the chain of his collar.  His position was truly awkward: all four arms tied behind his back with a rope that was then tied to a ring in the ground, he had barely any room to move.

“N-no, never!”, the robot tried to resist, and Papyrus groaned, kicking his shoulder while at the same time slackening his hold on the chain-leash, sending him backwards.  The magnets underneath his lower legs kept them awkwardly glued to the ground and immobile, and that ended him up with painfully folded legs.  He could _feel_ circuitry breaking on the inside of him.  Not that Papyrus cared for it, however: a sharp tug on the leash reminded him of his helplessness, and then the sharp scrape of metal over metal ensued, leaving a long scratch along his right thigh and cutting off his spandex pants.

“SAY IT, PATHETIC MECHA-SLUT, OR I’M FORCING IT OUT OF YOU.  IT ISN’T LIKE YOU AREN’T MINE TO USE ANYWAY, NYEH HEH…”, he repeated.  The stagnant and slightly humid air of the room felt slightly odd on Mettaton’s metallic groin, but then Papyrus sat down over him.  “…FINE… IF YOU WON’T SAY IT, THEN YOU _WILL_ USE YOUR MOUTH FOR SOMETHING _USEFUL_ … SUCK ME OFF - AND BETTER DO A GOOD JOB OR I’M BREAKING YOUR FUCKING SOUL!”  Mettaton meant to speak boldly, to tell the skeletal warrior to suck himself off, but then Papyrus tightened his hold on the chain again, yanking his head up right into his crotch and the magic-formed length.  “OPEN WIDE, METTAWIMP…”

“N-no- _uhmmmnnn…!_ ”  It was no use resisting: Mettaton protested only to find Papyrus thrust into his mouth, his slightly glowing member hitting the back of his throat.  Robots didn’t have a gag reflex, he remembered; still, he couldn’t help but feel about to throw up all the same.  But Papyrus didn’t relent, kept thrusting into his mouth.  “ _Mnnnn… nnnnnh… uuuuhhnnnn…”_ , the robot whimpered somewhat pathetically, his neck aching and his arms feeling like they were being crushed into scrap underneath the weight of his torso… but despite the roughness and the definite element of force in the entire set-up, he couldn’t help but feel thrilled, excited even.  Alphys had made him to entertain, and he was _certainly_ entertaining the skeleton right now, if his throaty growls and moans were any indication.

“F-FUCK, METTATON… Y-YOU LITTLE METAL PLAYTHING… T-TAKE IT… HNNN…!”, he ground out in between sharp, deep thrusts, and Mettaton had to keep his soul from fluttering at the sheer joy of feeling Papyrus’ femurs shake against his chassis.  Then, he felt his soul container open and the rough caress of a gloved hand pressing slightly too hard against the surface of his soul, causing it to squirt deep pink, shining goop all over it.  “Y-YOU SEE… YOU’RE GETTING OFF ON THIS, TOO… AHH, METTATON… D-DON’T FUCKING RESIST IT…  I WILL COME DOWN YOUR THROAT AGAIN A-AND AGAIN… _UNNGH…_ AND I’LL KEEP TEASING… YOUR LITTLE PINK SOUL - _HAAAAAHHH!_  - UN-UNTIL YOU _SAY IT_ …”  Mettaton meant to speak again, but another touch to his soul had his jaw relax for Papyrus’ next thrusts, and then the skeleton made true on the first part of his promise: he felt the deep red magic dick in his mouth swell and pulse, shooting soul goop through it and down into Mettaton’s inner workings, evaporating harmlessly after a second but leaving a lingering aftertaste of something metallic.  And Papyrus didn’t halt or even pause, continuing his deep, sharp thrusts into Mettaton’s mouth as well as keeping his gloved fingers press deep into Mettaton’s soul, but the digits hardly moved, keeping the stimulation  _teasing._ And Mettaton found his resistance crumbling with every movement of his skeletal lover, every thrust that had his bones shake, every pull on the leash, every creak of his body, every last minute movement of Papyrus’ fingers against the sticky, goopy surface of his soul… and finally, when Papyrus groaned his name deliciously deeply and possessively, the robot relented.

“MMmmnnnn… mmmnnhhh phhhhnsh…”  Instantly, Papyrus pulled out.

“SAY IT AGAIN.  I DIDN’T QUITE HEAR THAT!  HONESTLY, DIDN’T THEY TEACH YOU NEVER TO SPEAK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL?!”  Mettaton didn’t care about damaged circuitry or debasing himself, or _anything_ apart from the pleasure that beckoned so alluringly on the horizon.

“I said please, m-master Papyrus… _p-please fuck me… please use me, I-I’m yours!!!”_

 _“TOO FUCKING RIGHT, METTA…”_ , Papyrus said - or rather, _growled_ \- as he moved off Mettaton.  “I AM YOUR MASTER, AM I NOT?  YOU ARE MY PET… AND SUCH A GOOD LITTLE PET YOU ARE… AND GOOD PETS… DESERVE TO BE _REWARDED…_ ”, he cooed cruelly right into Mettaton’s ear while squeezing the dark pink soul he still held _hard_ in one gloved hand, causing pink goop to erupt from it and Mettaton to cry out in equal parts pain and pleasure.  The four-armed robot was so close to oblivion now, yearning for completion more than for anything else, so he barely protested when Papyrus got up off him and pulled him upright only to push him in the other direction, face flat on the floor and ass high in the air, legs still spread as they had been before.  He knew what was coming, and all he cared about was the pleasure he’d feel due to his insides being filled and stretched by the skeleton’s magic.  “SAY IT AGAIN…”

“M-master Papyrus, p-please- _ahhhh y-yessss!!!”_

He could care about the damage to his chassis later, after the rush of pleasure his terrifying but marvellous skeleton brought him.


	19. Berry needful (Edgeberry sin)

“UGH… HOW CAN SANS KEEP SHOVELLING IN THAT DISGUSTING FOOD…”, Papyrus said as he walked out the back door of the restaurant/bar of Snowdin Town for a breath of fresh, non-greasy air.  Sighing, he leaned his head against the brick wall, rubbing the crack in his skull, stopping suddenly when he felt a tug on the spiked collar he wore.  Another monster trying to irk him?  “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU-”

“ALL OF THAT CURSING IS BAD FOR YOUR SOUL!”, the higher-pitched and energetic voice of his brother’s alternate version interrupted, and he looked down to see him standing there.

“BLUEBERRY?  HOW… HOW DID YOU END UP HERE?!  NOT THAT I’M NOT HAPPY TO SEE YOU, IT’S JUST… I THOUGHT YOU COULDN’T MAKE IT HERE, YOU _NEVER_ CAME TO _MY_ WORLD BEFORE…”, he instantly said, leaning lower to clink their skulls together only for the armor-clad version of Sans to pull at the leash - _how had that even appeared?!_ \- which caused Papyrus to stumble to his knees.

“TONIGHT, I AM NOT BLUEBERRY… TONIGHT, I THINK I WOULD LIKE YOU TO CALL ME ‘SIR’, AND I THINK _YOU_ WILL BE _MY_ LITTLE PET FOR THE NIGHT…”  Shock overtook Papyrus.  Sure, monsters were used to a lot in their version of the underground, what with torture and violence being the norm, but… the kind of ‘torture’ his innocent (well, _normally_ innocent) little skelefriend was suggesting would still draw attention.  Nevertheless, there was no denying it wasn’t an incredible rush to see the slight skeleton that still wore his bracelet like a badge of honor, the bright red a furious contrast with the light blue of his clothing and armor, behave so possessively and clearly domineeringly.  Still, normally it was _his_ place to be the one in control, so he looked at Sans questioningly.

“REALLY?”

“MWEH, _IT WASN’T A QUESTION_ , PAPYRUS!  EITHER YOU BEHAVE AND I WILL TREAT YOU RIGHT, OR YOU _DON’T_ BEHAVE AND I’LL HAVE TO  _DISCIPLINE_ YOU LIKE THE NAUGHTY LITTLE PET YOU ARE BEING!”  If Papyrus had any lingering hesitation, seeing the energetic version of Sans glowering down at him removed it.  Being in control somehow…  _suited_ him.  And lord knew that Papyrus would be in good hands with him, that he could trust his skelefriend with the reins… or, in this case, the leash.  Not to mention the bright red glow in his breeches was undeniable at this point - how could he have known that seeing this radically different version of Sans all commanding and dominant would be such a turn-on?  How could he have guessed that he would get so eager just with a tug on his collar and a few heated words? He wanted more of it.

So he decided to play along.

“N-NYEH, OF COURSE, B- _SIR_.  HOW CAN YOUR LITTLE PET PLEASE YOU TONIGHT?”, he said with as much docility as he could force into his voice, gaining him a broad and trouble-promising grin from the slight skeleton.

“WELL… MAYBE YOU CAN DROP TO YOUR HANDS AND KNEES TO START WITH.  GO ON…”, Sans crooned, tugging gently on the leash; Papyrus rolled his eyes but complied before the smaller skeleton found offense in that.  “OH, PERFECT, MWEH HEH… NOW…”  Papyrus knew what was coming before it happened: Sans pulled down his small, child-sized breeches and revealed his bare lower pelvis, magic forming genitalia in perfect proportion to the rest of his body, standing at attention and glowing in the descending darkness.  Papyrus found himself happy that Grillby’s had no windows at the back, because if any of the other monsters saw this…  “PART THOSE GORGEOUS FANGS OF YOURS, MY LITTLE PET, AND MAKE A MAGIC TONGUE, OR THIS MIGHT STING…”

“STING, SIR?”, Papyrus said - it was all he managed to utter, however, before Sans grabbed hold of his skull and thrust his dick into his opened mouth, Papyrus’ lower jaw colliding with his pelvis hard enough to smart.  “ _MNNNGH!_ ”

“OH, DON’T COMPLAIN, PAPYRUS, LITTLE PET… YOU _LOVE_ IT, DON’T YOU?”  Papyrus half-expected Sans to pull back out to allow him to answer, but clearly he wasn’t given that luxury.  The second thrust was just as hard and deep, and he resorted to nodding instead of speaking, gaining him a very light and loving caress from Sans.  “M-MWEH, GOOD… NOW, DIDN’T I ASK YOU TO FORM A MAGIC TONGUE?”  Papyrus again complied, forming his magic to cushion the thrusts and slick the way for Sans’ magic dick, at the same time heightening the pleasure he himself derived from the entire thing.  Sans’ magic rubbing along his own was making his bones ache pleasantly.  “OH… MMMH, MWEH… Y-YOU’RE SUCH A GOOD LITTLE PET, PAPYRUS… SO NICE AND DOCILE… T-TAKING ME IN SO WELL… S-STARS, IT FEELS SO PERFECT… I NEED IT SO MUCH, I NEED _YOU_ SO MUCH, PET… AHHH MMMWEHHH…”, Sans crooned in the silence, petting Papyrus’ skull slowly in time with his thrusts.  “P-PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS, PET… SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU NEED ME…”

Oh, this was _so satisfying_ , Papyrus didn’t care whether anyone would see anymore.  One hand shakily moving to his belt buckle to unfasten his pants and open them enough for his own magically-shaped length to spring free, the tall skeleton would comply even if every citizen of Snowdin was looking on.

“OH… LOOK AT THAT, SO NEEDY… GLOWING LIKE A BLOOD-COLORED LANTERN OUT HERE…  AHHH M-MWEH…  TELL ME, P-PET… WILL YOU COME FOR ME?  WILL YOU COLOR THE SNOW RED FOR ME?  FOR YOUR COMMANDER, YOUR OWNER… W-WILL YOU?”  Sans was getting close, Papyrus could tell, what with the shiver of his bones and the urgency of his caresses over his skull, but it wasn’t until he nodded that he noticed how close he himself was as well.  He hadn’t even noticed the fact that the rattle of his own bones was subtly there, right alongside the blueberry’s, but it was and he was _really_ going to go off without Sans even laying a hand on his length…  “M-MMMH, SUCH A GOOD LITTLE PET… C-COME ON, THEN… YOU GO FIRST… Y-YOU SHOW ME WHAT AN OBEDIENT LITTLE PET YOU ARE… OH _F-FUCK…!”_   Papyrus wasn’t certain whether it was Sans’ last vehement thrust into his mouth, his bright blue dick rubbing along his tongue harder than before, or the fact that the smaller skeleton was lost to pleasure enough to let slip one of the swearwords he so abhorred, but he cried out around the magical length that filled his oral cavity and sprayed the ground underneath him with a decent coating of magic-turned-fluid, his spine arching.  Sans, however, didn’t instantly lose it at seeing the mess he’d asked for: instead, the skeleton kept up his furious thrusts, shaking like a reed in a storm, his small gloved hands clasped tightly around Papyrus’ skull, the pressure from the hold slightly painful.  “AHH, S-SO GOOD… SO HOT… B-BETTER BE READY FOR ME TO COME TOO… BETTER B-BE READY FOR MY MAGIC TO S-SHOOT RIGHT DOWN TO YOUR GREEDY LITTLE SOUL… M-MWEH- _HUH-HHNNNNGH!!”_ He didn’t cry out, instead gritting his teeth together, but he did make true on his promise as bright blue magic erupted from the tip of his magical length and splashed all over the inside of Papyrus’ armor, his ribs, his spine, and across the surface of his soul, sizzling madly and sending a wave of residual pleasure through Papyrus.  Then, groaning, his magic finally fizzling out of his grasp, Sans staggered back.  “M-MWEH… P-PAPYRUS, THAT… I K-KIND OF NEEDED THAT…”

“I FIGURED.”, Papyrus commented, checking the state of him before getting up again - Sans allowed the leash, which had apparently also been magical in nature, to disappear so he could get to his feet - and looking down at the slighter skeleton.  “…ROUGH DAY, THEN?”

“UGH.  PAPYRUS - MY OWN PAPYRUS, I MEAN - GETS ON MY NERVES SO EASILY AS OF LATE… I NEEDED A MOMENT OF ESCAPE…  D-DID I… MWEH, I DIDN’T THINK!  DID I HURT YOU D-DOING… T-THAT?!”, Sans asked urgently, prompting laughter from Papyrus.

“YOU’LL NEED TO DO MORE THAN THAT TO HURT ME, _REALLY_ HURT ME I MEAN.”

“AH, MWEH HEH HEH HEH!  I’M GLAD!  AND I AM VERY HAPPY WITH YOU AS MY STRONG AND POWERFUL SKELEFRIEND!”

“WELL, MY LITTLE BLUEBERRY… I AM ALSO VERY HAPPY WITH YOU AS MY SMALL, SWEET, HOT SKELEFRIEND…”   Well, his regular blueberry skelefriend was back again.  Not that _that_ bothered him.  Hot though it had been, he still very much liked being in control.

…Which reminded him…

“SANS… YOU MENTIONED A REWARD BEFORE…”

“OH, YES!  W-WELL, I-IT’S ONLY FAIR AFTER YOU INDULGED MY, UH, N-NEEDS… THAT I SEE TO _YOURS_ …”

How had he ended up with such a perfect skelefriend, Papyrus wondered as his entire soul and the confines of his breeches lit up for the second time that evening at the prospect of pinning the smaller skeleton down on his bed and making him _beg_ for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bracelet thing was sorta borrowed from [this magnificent fic called 'Corrupted'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5911336), you need to read that if you're as into Edgeberry as I am!


	20. Glowing moment (Edgeberry sin)

“M-MWEH… _MWEEEEH… P-PAPYRUS…_ ”

“T-THAT’S IT, BLUEBERRY… _MOAN_ FOR ME… AHHH… GODDAMNIT…”  The tall and imposing skeleton clad in black was holding up his lover’s slight form, bright blue pants pulled down just enough to allow their current tryst - he could feel the bunched up fabric occasionally rub against his pubis, adding a little more friction to the experience.  His blood red magic, shaped into the by now familiar simulation of human genitals, was rubbing against the sensitive side of the other skeleton’s sacrum in ways that were too sinfully good _not_ to get breathless about, and that was exactly what had long since happened to Papyrus, the fearsome lieutenant of the Underfell Kingdom’s Royal Guard.  The normally-composed skeleton was sweating, panting, his soul drizzling liquid that looked eerily like human blood all over his bones, trying its hardest to fly out of his ribcage so it could crash against his lover’s light blue soul…

Speaking of his lover, Papyrus supposed that there were very few things in the underground that could compare to the sight of the smaller skeleton, with his legs hooked over his elbows as well as the armrests of the chair they were sitting on, trying so ineffectually to contain his joy at being taken.  Blueberry needed very few preliminaries, come to think of it: just a skeleton kiss and a few well-placed touches had him _aching, begging_ to be touched, _dripping_ magic from his soul… his small breeches glowing like a lantern, magic shaped similarly to his own struggling to be freed from the confines of cloth around it…

“SANS… TELL ME WHAT YOU NEED…”, he crooned, and Sans blushed, gritting his teeth together until a particularly hard thrust had them moan loudly again.

“M-MWEHHHH…!  M-MMMH… P-PAPYRUS…”

“ _SAY IT,_ MY SWEET LITTLE BLUEBERRY… BEFORE I _FUCK_ IT OUT OF YOU…”  Even now, even in their very compromising and ‘lewd’ position, the other version of Sans’ cheeks colored at the turn of phrase and he groaned.

“PAPYRUS… C-COME ON…”

“SAY IT, BLUEBERRY…  SAY IT, SANS…”  A few more thrusts had Sans’ bones rattling like a cheap children’s toy, loudly and with a sort of shaky rhythm to it, and Papyrus could feel his lover brace against the armrests a little, shifting his body just enough to allow Papyrus’ thrusts to land perfectly against the sensitive surface of his sacrum once more, prompting a chuckle out of the taller of the two skeletons.  Really, no matter the universe, his ‘brother’ wasn’t too hard to read…  Grinning, Papyrus decided to give in to the unspoken plea and thrust up a little faster than before, groaning in time with the rhythm he settled in instantly.  “GRRRH… S-SAY IT, THEN… _SAY IT, PET-”_

 _“O-OH MWEHHHH…!!”_   Suddenly, Papyrus found himself pushed back against the backrest of the chair, magic gripping his armbones and pinning them into place, and the energetic version of his own Sans canted his hips downward _hard_ , crashing their hips together and setting off sparks of satisfaction in Papyrus’ mind.

“HOLY FUCKING… S-SANS-”, he tried, only for the blueberry version of Sans to push himself down onto his length again and setting off anothe, infinitely more happy groan.  “ _A-AHHH FUUUUUUCK!!”_

“GO ON… S-SWEAR ALL YOU WANT… I’LL GIVE YOU _GOOD REASON_ TO SWEAR… PAPYRUS…”  The downward motions of the slighter skeleton’s pelvis were sharp and fast, and he was rubbing his sacrum _all over_ the entire length of Papyrus’ sensitive magic length, causing the taller of the two skeletons to whimper at how sharp the stimulation proved to be.  “M-MWEH… YOU LOOK SO GOOD… S-SO, WHILE I… D-DO THIS, GO AHEAD AND SWEAR, PAPYRUS… M-MY SWEET, HOT LOVE…”  Sans ground down against Papyrus sharply two more times, panting madly before being able to finish his thought in a heated whisper: “ _…B-BECAUSE I AM GOING TO MAKE YOU LIGHT UP THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND WITH YOUR MAGIC N-N-NOW…!  OH S-STARS…!!”_

Papyrus broke free of his blueberry lover’s magic restraint and gripped the slighter skeleton’s hips tightly as he rolled his own hips up with broken, muffled moans of absolute pleasure, lost in the haze as he was.  His magical fluids stained his lover’s entire mid-section a bright, vibrant red that lingered even after his magic subsided again and flickered from his grasp.  Then, still breathing hard, he turned the bruising hold into a more warm and slightly awkward embrace as he fell back into the chair’s backrest, panting a little and then chuckling.

“…Y-YOU CAN BE QUITE DIRTY IF YOU WISH SO, BLUEBERRY…”

“MWEH… HEH… WELL, I… K-KIND OF LIKE KNOWING HOW TO MAKE YOU LOSE YOUR COOL, P-PAPYRUS… IT’S ALWAYS SUCH A THRILL SEEING YOU LET GO…”

“…NYEH HEH HEH… I LOVE LETTING MYSELF GO WITH YOU, BLUEBERRY, SO I’D SAY YOU’RE IN LUCK…”, Papyrus admitted, rolling his eyes and settling his jawbone loosely on top of Sans’ skull, allowing the moment to linger for a while.

Or, as it turned out, for about _three seconds._ After that amount of time, his lover spoke up, and he found relaxation to be the _last_ thing on his mind.

“…M-MWEH… BUT I DID LIKE HOLDING YOU BACK IN THE END, TOO… IN FACT, I THINK IT’S ONLY FAIR THAT I GET TO ENJOY YOU A LITTLE NOW…”  Small, gloved fingertips traced the nicks and cuts in his thighs, and Papyrus bit back a groan that was more needful than it was supposed to be in the afterglow he’d still been enjoying, and he looked down at his blueberry.

“…AREN’T YOU EAGER TODAY, BLUEBERRY?”

“SHHHH NOW…”, his lover said softly, his caresses turning into straight-up fondling of his bones while magic flared up around them, restricting Papyrus’ movements but also seeping into his bones and making heat flare up throughout him.  Heat, and _need_ , raw and unmitigated.  He wasn’t intent on voicing it, but Sans knew him too well, it seemed.  “…SHHHH NOW… JUST LET YOUR BLUEBERRY TAKE CARE OF YOU AND MAKE YOU FEEL _EXTRA GOOD_ …”

“ _OH FUCKIN’ STARS…”_   Papyrus muttered breathlessly, his legs shaking.  He wanted so badly for his lover, his blueberry, to take him and make him feel good…

After all, he _always_ made him feel good…


	21. Ride through it (Swap Soriel sin)

_“AHHH...  I HAVE TO... R-RESIST...”_ Sans groaned as he struggled half-heartedly against the ropes that bound him securely to the chair.  He felt flashes of literal heat rage through him, coiling around his bones and burning so much, making him long for the monster-woman that lay on the bed.  His queen, his lover, his soulmate, his greaest temptation: Toriel was everything to him, but at that moment she was mostly a challenge to his endless patience.  She wore nothing special, just her lavender indoor dress that was tight around her waist and that fanned out around her furry legs, ending just a hand’s breadth below her knees.  A modest dress for a modest woman...

...and yet, Sans couldn’t be more enraptured and lustful if she’d worn skimpy lingerie, or _nothing at all_.

 _“MWEH..._ T-TORI... MY QUEEN... NGH...!”, he said, looking up at her helplessly, feeling sweat trickle down his skull and his spine, the pathway every droplet paved over each vertebra like some kind of torture designed by sick and twisted minds, because it felt so light and slow, like the kinds of caresses he’d usually receive when he made sweet love to his queen... and the swish of her dress was like her happy sighs as he directed his magic _just right_ around her, within her, syncing up to her like clockwork... and his heat demanded satisfaction so, so loudly and powerfully... but he remembered the situation a split second before Toriel spoke the words.

“Sans... I know, but you... you told me it’s a dominant heat coming up, and you said yourself that you don’t like what it does to you... what it _makes you do_ to _me_...  I don’t like this either...”

“NNNGH!!  I... I K-KNOW... OH, M-MWEH, MY LOVELY TORIEL... M-MY GRACIOUS... MY SWEETEST...”, he said softly, soothingly - and then he tacked on without fully realizing it himself, in a heated and promising tone: “ _MY HOT LITTLE TEMPTRESS...”_ Instantly, he realized what he’d said and why, and he groaned, mindful of Toriel’s sigh.

“O-Oh dear, it’s starting already... Sans, I... again, a-are you _absolutely sure?_   I mean, it can’t be as bad as last time, I... there’s nothing sugary in the entire palace...”

“N-NO, TORIEL!!  I W-WILL NOT... DEBASE YOU, OR MYSELF, B-BY GIVING IN TO THIS... THIS L-LEWDNESS!  EVEN IF I CANNOT HELP IT!!”, he said hotly, closing his eyes tightly as he felt another wave of heat rise within him, pulling at his magic and his essence.  “OH STARS...”, he whispered, remembering what Papyrus had told him when he’d very carefully broached the sensitive subject...

_‘okay, just... just ride it out, sansy, okay?  if you don’t like the heat sweeping you up, then... ride the crest of it, i guess...  wait for the right moment and control the energy...’_

So he waited, and he waited.  The waves of heat didn’t diminish in the slightest, causing him to groan loudly, biting back curses as his closed eyes didn’t stop his over-active mind.  Instead of seeing Toriel fully clothed in front of him, he saw her naked, and sweaty, panting and pleading for him, for everything he had to offer...  He struggled a little more earnestly against the ropes that bound him, but with just as little effect as before, wincing when the rough material dug into his radii and seemingly fused his metacarpals together.  Another wave had him panting and gritting his teeth together to keep from spewing more lewd remarks, like how good he’d smell on her and how wet he could get her without even touching her.

In the third wave, just when he could feel the tension waver, he grabbed his chance and dove into the feeling, grasping hold of the energy of his heat but retaining his wits, and he opened his eyes finding Toriel looking at him in clear surprise.

“S-sans, you’re...

“MWEH!!  I D-DID IT, TORIEL, MY... MY DEAREST, MY SOULMATE!  I AM IN CONTROL!!  I CAN... MANAGE IT!”  The heat surged, energy spurring him on, but he didn’t struggle anymore, grinning at Toriel.  “I THINK...  I THINK WE CAN D-D-DO... SOMETHING... I THINK IT’S SAFE TO... BE TOGETHER... S-SO!  C-CAN WE TRY... MAYBE... M-MWEH... I LOVE TASTING YOU...”

“A-are you... sure?”, Toriel asked - Sans’ heat made his senses more sensitive, and he could pick up the scent of her arousal hanging around her like a perfumed veil, but where it’d normally drive him out of his mind, now he had a good grasp of his needs and he merely nodded with a little added vigor.

“I AM NOT... SPOUTING L-LEWD COMMENTS AT EVERY TURN... SO I THINK... W-WE CAN BE BOLD!  AND I-IT’S THE PERFECT WAY TO... WORK THROUGH MY HEAT!  I... GIVE A LITTLE... S-SO I DON’T BURN UP ENTIRELY... R-RIGHT?”

“Well, I can’t deny I... may need just a little bit of attention from my finest knight and my dearest beloved...”, Toriel said with a little giggle, pulling up the hem of her dress as she walked over to him, revealing her lack of underwear.  Sans chuckled and looked her over as she stood in front of him, blushing ever so slightly and holding the hem of her dress up high enough so it barely even brushed the top of his skull as she stood there.

“MY LOVELY QUEEN... NO, MY SOULMATE!  YOU ARE THE MOST EXQUISITE BEING IN THE ENTIRE UNDERGROUND, AND I AM SO HONORED TO CALL YOU MINE!”  It was a little more dominant and self-assured than he’d usually speak up, but that thought got lost halfway through his brain as he gently nuzzled her pubic mound, shaping his magic carefully into a tongue before licking very slowly and tentatively along the furless and already slightly swollen flesh of her nethers, being rewarded by a shuddering intake of breath from the queen, whose paws gripped the backrest of the chair he was tied to.

“Oh, _Sans...”_ , she whispered warmly, spreading her legs just a fraction of an inch, giving him more room to work.  And work he did.  He found the ministrations perfect to keep himself under control: it satisfied at least a part of his heat, and yet it was still light and easy, like their usual lovemaking.  Besides, he considered, the breathless shudders and light mewling sounds his queen made were too good not to seek out, the creak of the chair in her grip too satisfying even without the heat fuelling him on.  Another surge and his magic tongue pried apart her inner labia and dove inside of her, causing Toriel to gasp a little more loudly for him.  “ _S-Sans...!_   Oh my... t-that feels good...”

“I WANT IT TO FEEL GOOD... I WANT IT TO FEEL _GREAT_ , EVEN... OH... MY LOVELY, WONDERFUL, PERFECT TORIEL... MY QUEEN, MY HEART... GOD, I COULD JUST LISTEN TO YOU SLOWLY COMING UNDONE FOR HOURS AND NOT NEED A SINGLE TOUCH OF YOURS-”

When she _did_ touch him, despite his saying he didn’t need anything from her, he was vaguely ashamed at the moan he let slip, but that embarrassment lasted all of a soul’s flutter before he moaned again, more appreciatively, before burying his face against her crotch and licking over and into her again, his tongue pressing against every sweet spot he knew she had: slipping into her entrance, laving over her clitoris, tracing her inner labia...  His magic was always sensitive, but now that he had reined in his heat, it felt like that sensitivity had amplified tenfold, making him feel every least twitch of her muscles, every last shiver that ran through her body... every last squeeze of her inner muscles as his tongue pressed into the warmth and wetness that awaited him...

“OH... TORIEL... M-MY QUEEN, MY BELOVED... I... T-THINK I NEED... _M-MORE_... C-CAN WE... CAN _YOU_...”, he tried emphatically, and Toriel’s eyes widened as she stepped away from him.

“S-sans, I don’t... m-maybe we should stop...”

“N-NO!”, the skeleton said quickly, adding with a tone of voice that he hoped would communicate the strength of his grip on his unruly soul: “N-NO... I CAN CONTROL IT!  WE CAN... D-DON’T MOVE AWAY...”  He used his magic to press gently but decisively down on Toriel’s shoulders, ending her up with her legs spread wide and her hot, slick nethers pressed hard against his exposed pelvis, magic rushing to meet her exposed flesh.  Groaning, this time from genuine exertion to keep his unruly soul in check, Sans held his magic back and looked Toriel over warmly.  “M-MY ANGEL... I WILL NOT BE L-LIKE THAT... I WILL NOT HURT YOU... I SAID I WOULD RESIST IT, AND I WILL RESIST IT... EVEN IF I DO... D-DO...”  Toriel was oblivious to his words, raising herself from his form just enough to allow him to shape his magic into complementary organs to fit hers, and then she settled back on top of him, rolling her hips down and forward and rubbing herself around and against him so deliciously well that he couldn’t help but swear just _once_.  “OH _STARS BE DAMNED..._ T-TORIEL... M-MY LOVE, YOU’RE THE MOST PERFECT... M-MWEH!”  Her movements sped up, showing how eager she was, and Sans felt a little less certain about having his heat under control for a split second before he got a hold of himself again and tried to move his hips in time with hers, rolling them up into her downward grinds and ending her up gasping louder and moaning his name in the quiet surrounding them.  Then, finally, he couldn’t bear the restraining rope anymore: a simple push had it snap cleanly in half, and his hands found his lover’s hips, angling her downward thrusts a little better into him.

“S-sans...!  You’re... _ahhh!  C-cheating...”_ , Toriel tried in between gasps and soft whimpers of pleasure, and Sans grinned guiltily at her before looking her in the eyes.

“M-MWEH... I CANNOT HELP IT... Y-YOU BRING OUT THIS... THIS LONGING, THIS FIRE...  OH, TORIEL, I SO LOVE THIS... AND I LOVE YOU, OH HOW I LOVE YOU... OH, S-STARS, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, S-SO... SO- _OHHH!!”_ His hips took on a life of their own as he passed the point of no return, pleasure rising and rising inside of him until he saw his end with a loud, drawn-out and inarticulate moan.  Still, as wrapped in bliss as he was, he could feel Toriel’s motions cease together with his, her insides squeezing his magic in time with the rise and fall of heat inside of him, and then he rested his head against Toriel’s bosom, utterly spent.  Sleep took him over without delay, but as he succumbed, he still heard Toriel’s comment and grinned.

“...I’ll never doubt you again, my magnificent Sans...”


	22. Out of control (Underfell Soriel sin)

“m-mmmnnn...”  The gritty sandstone floor underneath his bare bones made for a nice change, Sans considered, right before his attention was once again drawn back to where it was supposed to be by a light chuckle, followed by soft, almost soothing words as a furry paw gently stroked his exposed ribs.  His soul was shining bright red inside, aching to be touched, dripping thick red liquid onto his spine and the sandstone below it, but he’d die rather than beg now.

Besides, Toriel always gave him what he wanted even without pleas.

“Oh, this look suits you... that collar made it _easier_... now, let’s see... i-it’s not too tight, right?”  The hesitation was nice for a change as well, even though the skeleton preferred his partners to be decisive and commandeering.  Trying for a grin, all he managed was to make the cloth tied between his teeth to pull in an uncomfortably hard way on his jawbone, so he opted for a muffled answer instead.

“mnnh, mnnnh-”  The other monster interrupted him, smiling down at him with a glint of satisfaction in red, large eyes.

“Well, even if it’s a little tight, that’s okay with you, right?  You liked it so much when I pulled your collar... so I’ll bet you like being all tied up like this - remember, if you try to untie yourself or take out that gag, I’m leaving, and if you try to take control, I’m delivering you to Papyrus like this.  You’ll behave, won’t you?”  It was said sweetly, but only an idiot would be oblivious to the cold, undeniable threat underlying that tone of voice, and Sans was definitely not an idiot.  If his brother knew that he’d found a way to get to the Underground’s exiled queen and had... _consorted_ with her... well, he’d be as good as dead, even without the consideration that he had let her take the reins on this.  Fortunately, he knew exactly how to react to appease her.  It wasn’t the first time they’d done this song and dance, after all, even if she usually preferred the comfort of her bed.

“mmhmm, mmmnnnn...  hmmmnnnn...”  Saying ‘come on’ was just about the boldest thing he found himself comfortable enough to get away with at a moment like that - anything else could be construed by the former queen of all monsters as ‘trying to take control’, after all - and it brought a soft, teasing chuckle out of her as her paw raked lower, over his pelvis, stroking the sensitive ridges of his pubic bone with a single claw, causing him to breathe harder into the cloth that now was feeling moist in between his teeth.

“Aren’t you impatient... and I see your magic is pulling at me already... so _eager..._ well then, let’s give you what you want...”  Sans expected her to dig her claw into the bone just a little, drawing out a little pain as a promise of things to come, but that day the queen seemed to be in just as much need for an out-of-this-world high as he was, because she first licked the bone she’d just been stroking, prompting the skeleton to moan softly, and then she raked her _teeth_ over the surface, and that kind of touch was just too hot.  Arching his back - really the only thing he could get away with seeing as his wrists and ankles were bound tightly together.  His magic instantly gathered at his pubic bone, shaping itself into a brightly glowing red dick, and Toriel wasted no time in wrapping her lips around it and taking it into her mouth, causing Sans’ toes to helplessly try and dig into the hard sandstone beneath him.

“p-phhhhh...”, he breathed, panting into the gag, prompting the boss-monster to grin at him luxuriously, detaching from his magic length to move up again, crouching over him on her hands and feet and whispering against his skull, right where an ear would be on any other monster.

“You’re so good, Sans... the feel of your magic, the _taste_ of you... all mine... all of you, mine...”

“mmm hrrrrrrn...”, Sans muttered, wanting so badly to thrust his hips up and rub his red dick all over Toriel’s furry asscheeks - friction, _any kind of friction_ , was all he needed now - but he relented, instead forcing himself to wait for _her_ move and _her_ desire.  He half expected her to push her own privates in his face and tell him to eat her out, but once again the former queen showcased that she wanted nothing less than the full experience as she pushed herself down over and around Sans’ length hard, causing the skeleton to whimper as his pelvis was ground over the rough sandstone hard.  

“ _mmmmnnnn!”_ It was a little pained, but oh so overwhelmingly happy: Toriel’s heated privates were tight and slick around his magic-turned-flesh, squeezing him gently with each of her upward and downward motions, which picked up in speed almost right from the get-go.  Sans wanted nothing more than to rock his hips up, and this time he could only partially resist the urge, awkwardly bracing for her downward thrusts by meeting them right before his bones were ground against the soil.  Toriel didn’t seem to mind at any rate, if her moans and gasps were anything to go by.

“Ohh... mmm, yes, that’s right... oh my... y-yes, _yes..._   P-perfect... y-you’re filling me up so well, Sans!”  The fur on her belly glowed a soft pink, indicative of how much her own magic was amassing around his for further stimulation, and Sans looked directly into Toriel’s eyes as he moaned profanities into the gag.  

“mmmn... phhhhm... ssshhhh...”   He wanted so badly to come undone at her hands, but he needed her to pull him apart; it wouldn’t mean a thing if he got himself off with her, or because of her.  So he turned his head away again, ostensibly baring his collar again - a gift from his brother, though it really hadn’t meant anything to the short skeleton until Toriel had wrapped her clawed digits around it and had told him he was hers from now on.  If she’d do that now, he’d find the twisted oblivion he needed... if she pulled on it again, she’d prove that he was meant for her.  She seemed to get the hint and wrapped her digits around the thick, black leather band even as her body raised and fell on top of his, her hips not pausing and her breasts bouncing just a little closer to his face.

“Y-you want me to... pull y-your collar, right?  H-how’s _this_...?”  She pulled hard enough to cut off the airsupply of any other monster, if they’d been lucky enough to be in his position - but Sans was a skeleton, so all it did was scrape over his neck vertebrae, sending a shiver down his spine as pure pleasure washed over him.  But not yet the final pleasure he’d derive from Toriel.  It wasn’t enough for that... not nearly enough to bring him off...  Frustrated, Sans gritted his teeth - or he would have, if there wasn’t a thick, soaked cloth in between his upper and lower teeth - and growled a muffled plaintive curse or two into the gag.

“hhhh!!  hmmmm!  mmmnnnnh...”  Toriel’s response was to shift her position: instead of sitting on her knees, she sat on her haunches, and the resulting shift in position rubbed his magic along the walls of her vagina so hard he felt like he’d press through her.  The mere thought of pressing into her hard enough to pierce through what little physicality she possessed was more than enough to get Sans’ bones rattling and creaking worse than ever before.  “ _phhhhhhnnn shhhhhhhhh!!!”_

“Oh, don’t try to speak... _ahh... y-yes..._ ”, Toriel said, moaning in bliss as her movements gained in ferocity.  Each of her downward grinds pressed his pelvis hard into the sandstone now - hard enough to crack the bone if he wasn’t careful, though she could probably heal him up if that happened - and she accidentally lifted herself off him completely before slamming her body back down and engulfing his magic length in her nethers once more.  It was hot and more than a little eager, and it was driving Sans out of his mind.

“mmmmmh... mm-hmmm!  hmmm!  hrrrrr... phhhhhm...!”, he swore - or pleaded, for whatever difference it could make - and Toriel pulled him up into a half-sitting position by his collar, the friction sending sparks of heat from his soul down to his groin, where his magic was starting to flicker.

“ _Oh_ , S-sans...  C-can you feel it... j-just as well as I can?”, Toriel moaned, and Sans nodded.  He was so close he could _feel_ his release, waiting just out of reach, dangled in front of him just a finger’s breadth away... tears of mingled frustration and anticipatory bliss formed in the corners of his eyesockets as he tried his best to thrust up into Toriel inconspicuously, his arms held up over his head uselessly.

“mmmmh... mmmmh... mmmnnnn... hrrrrr, hrrrr... sshhhh mmmmsh...”  ‘More’, he pleaded, and ‘harder’, eager to feel the wash of mind-blanking, soul-shaking delight... and Toriel’s pleas mimicked his own to perfection.

“ _Oh m-my stars... y-your magic..._ Oh, _Sans_ , d-don’t leave me hanging...   _Ahh-ahhh... o-oh fucking stars...!”_ There was no way, no possible way, that Sans could still hold himself back after hearing the queen curse: it took him three thrusts up into her grinding down onto him to unwind and unravel with a loud, incomprehensible cry that got muffled by the gag.

 _“phhhhh MMMMNNNH!!”_ Toriel’s only response was to squeal and shiveringly roll her hips into his pelvis, her hold on his magic so tight that he could only wrest it free from her grasp after a full ten minutes.  As he became focused on the remainder of the room again, he saw the mess they’d made in their mad scramble for release: clawmarks and imprints of bones marred the surface of the sandstone floor, and a thick puddle of viscous red had formed where he’d been laying down before.  Her dress was torn, shreds of fabric having fallen from it into the red magic residue his soul had oozed, and his own clothes looked just a little worse for wear as well, seeing as he’d been half-mad with need when he’d taken them off for her before she’d tied him up and had her way with him.

...When he thought about that latter thought, he had to admit that that sounded hot.

“...Well, Sans, my dear... I think I like you... and I think you’ll need to stay by my side from now on...”

“mmmh hmmnnnn mmmmhrrrrrmmm!”, he groaned; she responded by rolling her eyes and pulling down the gag, motioning for him to repeat what he’d said.  “...oh c’mon, toriel... ya know papyrus needs me...”

“All the more reason for you to stay, Sans - it’s about time your brother learnt to take proper care of his family!  And what better way to teach him that... than to _take you_ and to show you what _real care_ means!!”, Toriel interrupted vigorously, and before Sans could complain, Toriel had whisked him off up the stairs leading into her home by pulling him along by his collar, prompting him to follow one step behind her. Maybe she had a point... maybe Papyrus needed to be taught how to properly appreciate his presence by lacking it for a while?  “...I’m thinking we’ll need a _leash_ , Sans... I can’t have you wandering off unsupervised, after all...”, Toriel said with a wicked smile aimed at him, and Sans found his soul throb just out of sight.

“...holy fuck, make it a red one?”


	23. Cravings (Underswap fontcest sin)

“…HONESTLY… I DO NOT KNOW WHERE HE KEEPS GETTING THOSE… PAPYRUS SHOULD REALLY STOP SMOKING!  IT SMELLS ABSOLUTELY FOUL AND IT MUST BE BAD FOR HIM…  WELL!  IF HE CANNOT STOP OUT OF HIS OWN VOLITION, THEN HE NEEDS A HAND FROM THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, I AM SURE!”  Sans had given Papyrus warning after warning, chance after chance, to clean up his act, and his brother had not listened to any of his wise and well-intended words.  No, instead, apparently, he’d kept on indulging in this bad habit of his, the one that Sans hated most.  Sans had borne the smell of cigarette smoke in Papyrus’ hoodies, the perpetual blue haze issuing from his room… he’d borne the singemarks on the couch and the yellowness of his brother’s bones… but now?  Finding that the ashes of his brother’s latest cigarette, which he’d perched on the edge of his sentry-station, had fallen into his lunch?  He would scour the house for _every_ cigarette in there and throw them away!  Papyrus surely would have to rethink his habit then!  “…I HOPE HE DOES NOT GET HOME SOON, THOUGH…  FORTUNATELY, HE SHOULD STILL BE AT ONE OF HIS OTHER JOBS… THAT SHOULD GIVE ME AMPLE TIME…”

Arriving at the house, he found it deserted just as he’d hoped for - with Papyrus, one could never be sure, he _was_ a lazybones after all - and he set to work clearing the living room of hidden and not-so-hidden packs of cigarettes.  The couch alone held one half-empty pack between the armrest and the pillow, and another near-empty pack stuffed between the backrest and the throw pillow Sans used to support his back a little more.  The kitchen had always been a smoke-free zone, but still it held one pack that had been laying in the fridge with an illegible note laying on top of it; and Papyrus had been shocked to find a soaked pack of cigarettes laying next to the shower together with a lighter.

“HOW DOES HE EVEN PUT SO MUCH EFFORT INTO IT…”, Sans grumbled as he opened the door on what would surely be Cigarette Smoke Hell, Papyrus’ room, finding that the thick blue mist made his eyes water the instant he entered.  “M-MWAAAAAAAH!  I WILL NEED SOME AIR!!”  Pulling his scarf up to his nasal bone and squinting so he could see through the haze, he briskly walked towards the window and opened it, waving his hands around in an attempt to entice more clean and wholesome air inside even though he didn’t need to breathe.  The smoke cleared somewhat, allowing Sans to see the room a little better - though that didn’t really make things _better_ , necessarily.  Papyrus’ room was a mess: in the corner was what looked like a perpetual fountain of empty plastic cups that had once contained honey together with several action figures and a single right sock; his bed looked like he’d just heaped together blankets and pillows on the floor to hide the mattress he slept on; his desk was cluttered… the only clean spot in the entire room, really, was the small area where the computer stood.  Papyrus seemed to use it often, if the sound of typing issuing from his room was anything to go by.

…And the screen was on, Sans noticed.

“MWEH… OH, PAPYRUS, YOU CAN BE SUCH A LAZYBONES… NOW YOU’RE EVEN FORGETTING TO TURN OFF YOUR COMPUTER?!  HONESTLY, WHERE WILL IT END…”, Sans said, shaking his head and moving to switch off the machine when suddenly, movement on the screen caught his eye.  Only then did he notice that what he’d _thought_ was a desktop background of his sentry-station was in fact a video feed of that small corner in Snowdin Forest where he spent his days waiting for a human to come along: his well-constructed sentry post stood dead center of the screen, the image clear enough that he could see the elaborate lettering he’d put on the side to proudly display his name and title.  And the movement that had drawn his attention was a bright orange hoodie, an eye-watering splash of color in the near-monochrome landscape of the forest - and oh so recognizable to Sans.

“P-PAPYRUS…?  WHAT…”, Sans whispered, surprised and a little ahamed that his brother had chosen perhaps the one moment where he wasn’t at his post.  Then, however, his big-brother rage at Papyrus’ slacking off - because there was no way he was there to perform his actual job, not the way his movements were slow.  “…OH… THAT… T-THAT _LAZYBONES_ …!  HE CAME OVER TO SLACK OFF!!”  Turning to the screen, Sans poked it with a  finger.  “ _YOU,_ PAPYRUS VERDANA GASTER, ARE LUCKY I AM NOT THERE!!  SURELY YOU NEED A GOOD WHAT-FOR!  HONESTLY, IF YOU DID NOT HAVE ME, YOUR COOL OLDER BROTHER, TO KEEP YOU ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW… YOU’D EAT OUR MONEY AWAY AT MUFFET’S, FOR ONE, AND-”

 _“…heh, good, he ain’t here…”_  Papyrus’ voice was soft but clearly audible over the speakers of his computer, relief heavily present in it.  For a second, Sans felt a prickle of confusion, wondering whether his brother had become a mind-reader because he’d thought about berating Papyrus and how his younger brother was so very lucky that he wasn’t there.  Then, however, Papyrus walked around the sentry-station and sat down in the chair Sans had put in there so he’d have a better view of the road.  His brother’s legs propped up onto the plywood surface of his station, and Sans felt _livid_.

“PAPYRUS, SO HELP ME STARS, GET YOUR MUDDY SNEAKERS OFF THERE!!  I EAT MY TACOS FROM THERE!!”

 _“…man, sansy… it’s a good thing you’re not here… i’m so high-strung, bro… i need a li’l something…”_  The entire sentence was spoken in a nervous tone, and Papyrus’ eyes darted around the empty road, which reinforced Sans’ idea that he was jonesing for another one of his cigarettes and redoubled the small skeleton’s efforts in finding all of the cigarettes that Papyrus had hidden in his room.  Turning his back toward the scene on the screen, Sans looked around…

Then, a sound made him turn back to the screen, looking in utter shock at the scene in front of him.

 _“u-uhn… yeah, that’s it… s-shiiiit, it’s been too long already…”_  Papyrus, his baby brother, was leaning back in the chair, his feet still propped up on the plywood surface of his sentry-station, and his bony fingers were wrapped tightly around a glowing, orange formation of his magic, moving slowly up and down, each change in direction causing another pant or soft groan.

Sans was by no means innocent.  Sure, he hadn’t had a monsterfriend, but he’d been educated by his best and older friend Grillby, as well as later on by Alphys, in the essentials of monster mating.  And even if his friends hadn’t spoken about it… one day, when he’d still been in that awkward phase between monster kid and full-grown monster, he’d woken up from a particularly warm dream about an audience with Queen Toriel with a similar glowing appendage causing his bright blue pyjamas to look like they’d been doused in stardust, and the way he’d been subconsciously grinding his hips into his mattress told him all he ever needed to know.  So Sans, despite his carefree and bubbly persona, was not a child when it came to _those_ matters: he knew what pleasure using your magic like that brought, and he knew the kind of thoughts that had to be behind it.  But he’d only ever done so in the safety of his bed; Papyrus behaving so indecently and lewdly out in public was… _no words sufficed for that kind of shame!_

“PAPYRUS!!!  S-STOP THAT!!  YOU STOP THAT RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!”, Sans raged against the screen of his brother’s computer ineffectively, as though by some miracle Papyrus would be able to hear it.  But of course, he could not: his brother’s hand tightened a little, his bony brow furrowed, his gasps and moans turned even more heated, as though defying his overbearing brother instead of listening.

 _“ahhh… f-fuuuuuck me… shit, s-so tight… ahh, yeah…  j-just like that, yeah, just like that…”_ , Papyrus crooned lowly, breathlessly - which was _ridiculous_ because skeletons didn’t even need to breathe in the first place - and Sans clenched his hands into fists as he raged internally about his brother’s lewdness.  His brother was supposed to be at work - _any_ work, really, because for once the smaller of the two skeletal brothers wasn’t in the least bit bothered by the fact that Papyrus had five different jobs - not in such a public place doing things like that!  What if Doggo decided to pay him a visit?  What if the Ferryman heard him?  What if one of the Icecaps spotted him - they weren’t even _adult monsters_!!  All things considered, it was little surprising that Sans could feel his blood boiling until suddenly… _“h-haaahh… y-yeah… fuck, sansy…”_

…Had Papyrus just… moaned _his_ name?

“I… T-THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT… I M-MUST HAVE MISHEARD!”, Sans said, feeling his cheekbones light up with the faintest shimmering of magic.  “PAPYRUS DIDN’T… T-THERE… HE M-MUST MEAN… SOME OTHER MONSTER W-WITH A NAME LIKE MINE…”  But the truth was that there  _was_ no other monster with a name that sounded even remotely like his own, not even in the capitol.  The truth was that no other monster fitted the words his brother managed to growl out under his breath the next second, soft enough not to be overheard but still loud enough to be picked up by the camera - the position of which, and the way it was trained on his sentry station, now making a lot more sense.

_“s-shiiiiit… i wish he was here now… i wish this was his hand… glove, n-no glove - i don’t give a shit, b-bro…  dammit… i need ya…”_

The truth was, Sans found himself admitting as he fidgeted in front of the computer, feeling his magic crawling over his bones like snakes coiling around them, eyes glued to the screen as his brother gasped… the truth was that he didn’t want any other monster to be on his brother’s mind.  And when Papyrus groaned and the glowing manifestation of magic he clenched so tightly squirted out some bright orange goop, Sans found himself leaning closer to the screen, resting one elbow on his brother’s desk, if only so the sudden glow of his own magic starting to manifest and take a similar shape didn’t distract him from Papyrus’ pants and groans and…

…wait, Papyrus’ hand didn’t stop?

Papyrus _did not stop_?!

Of course Sans had been privy to his brother’s moans as he took to self-gratification some nights (Sans realized that maybe Papyrus had been thinking of him even then and that just made his magic swarm even more), and he knew that Papyrus sometimes went for _a full hour_ … but this time it felt all the more acute and heated, since even in those previous exhaustion bouts Papyrus’ moans had waxed and waned like waves on the shore.  Now, that wasn’t the case: Papyrus’ strokes, if anything, were more precise, more demanding.  The realization it was due to _him_ that his brother was high-strung enough to _not even pause after release_ was enough to make Sans’ own bony fingers slowly wind their way to his own shorts, pulling them down so he could slowly (no, not slowly, _urgently_ ) stroke himself as well while watching Papyrus groan and raise one bony eyelid to look at the mess he made with satisfaction.

 _”f-fuck… j-just think… tomorrow, you’re bouncin’ over here… you’re sitting down in this - uhhhn! - in this same chair… not knowin’… oh almighty stars, sansy… t-think i’m gonna visit ya tomorrow, watch ya sit here… watch ya eat those tacos not knowing h-how my magic was all over your station… h-haahh…”_ Papyrus growled, clearly chasing something more profound than mere release, and Sans gasped as his fingers tightened around his own light blue magic-formed dick.  The thought of indirectly sampling his brother’s magic like that was lewd, but the pulse of heat it sent through his bones, through his _soul_ , was undeniable, and he shivered.

“PAPYRUS… I’LL KNOW, THOUGH… BUT COME BY…  YOU WON’T KNOW THAT I KNOW, THOUGH… I’LL STILL - _OH… OHHH…_ I’LL S-STILL EAT THE TACOS…”, he whispered in the quiet of Papyrus’ room - though ‘quiet’ was by that point not really the case anymore.  Papyrus’ moans sounded through the speakers, and his own gasps and grunts complemented those to perfection.  “OH, PAPYRUS… YOU S-SHOULD HAVE… S-SHOWN SOMETHING… OF THIS… _STARS…!”_ Sans’ fingers started to ache, his magic swelling under his touch, but he refused to compromise and give up even a little bit of friction, so he gritted his teeth and bit back a moan as he sped up his strokes.  Meanwhile, Papyrus seemed to need more than just the motions of his hands, because he started subtly lifting his hips into his strokes, and his next moan made all too clear what he was thinking.

_“h-holy shit… s-sansy… i can’t…  c-can’t stop imaginin’ you… on top of me… oh fuck, s-sans… can’t stop… imagining you m-mmmmh… moan f-for me…”_

Sans wasn’t about to argue with that mental image, and the moan his brother so longed for escaped him.

“ _P-PAPYRUS…!_ ”  The tension inside Sans was growing painful: his bones were rattling like a cheap fence in a snowstorm, and his soul was pulsing heat through him so rapidly it felt like he was going to combust any second.  On the screen, Papyrus seemed to be in that same situation: his hips were no longer subtly thrusting into his strokes but very deliberately meeting each motion of those long, skeletal fingers that Sans imagined around his own magic.  “PAPYRUS… N-NNNGH, PAP… I… C-CANNOT TAKE THIS MUCH…”

_“f-f-fuuuuuck… sansy… s-sansy… oh, sans, y-you’re too… too tight… oh fuck-”_

Sans gritted his teeth together and came, _hard_ , just when Papyrus muffled what was probably a loud cry of _his_ name and more of his liquefied magic shot out of his glowing length.  Thick droplets of bright blue fluid stained the screen, leaving Sans with a blurry and partially-obscured view of the aftermath of his brother’s indiscretions at his guard station, but the small skeleton was beyond caring about that.  Breathing hard, he took a step back and shook his head to clear the fuzziness away, looking with a mingled sense of horror and deep satisfaction at the mess he’d made - and then, the thought hit him like a sledgehammer.  He’d just gotten off to his brother fantasizing and getting off to him.

“S-STARS!!  WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WHEN PAPYRUS GETS HOME?!  H-HOW DO I ACT?!  DO I… ACT NATURAL?  DO I S-SPEAK ABOUT IT?  CONFRONT HIM?  H-HOW DO I CONFRONT HIM WITHOUT BETRAYING…?!  MWEH!  I D-DO NOT KNOW!!”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“bro?  sansy?”  Papyrus came home to an empty living room, which filled him with an odd sense of relief mingled with apprehension.  Sans was normally at home this time of day, but his brother had mysteriously disappeared from his guard post earlier that day - something he was grateful for, he thought with a faint residual blush.  He’d used the opportunity to get rid of some unwanted tension, and he’d only just finished cleaning everything up in time for Doggo to show up asking whether he’d seen Sans.  After that, he and Doggo had headed to Muffet’s for some spider cider, and then some donuts, and then some more cider, so now he was pleasantly intoxicated and feeling mellow.  A quick look around showed that the kitchen was spotlessly clean as always, with no way of telling whether Sans had made himself dinner or not, and the television was off, the cushions of their couch looking like someone had recently attempted to fluff them again.  “…sansy?  are you upstairs already?”, he muttered, walking up the stairs and looking into Sans’ room, finding… nothing.  “…huh.”, he whispered, blinking.  Had Sans mentioned going over to Alphys’ for training and a sleepover?  After fruitlessly racking his brain, which was unresponsive due to the cider, he sighed and shrugged.  “…well, he’s a big monster, he can take care of himself…”  Heading over to his own room, he found the door ajar and faint flickering issuing from inside, showing he’d let his computer on.  And when he opened the door…

“…oh shit.”

There stood Sans.  Right in front of his computer.  Looking through pictures of himself that Papyrus had saved to his hard drive for nights where things got… out of hand, so to speak.  Then, hearing his soft curse, his brother turned around and, still wearing that perpetual smile of his, put one hand on his hip and spoke.

“YOU HAVE GOT SOME SERIOUS EXPLAINING TO DO!”

“s-sansy!  i… l-let me-”

Only then did Papyrus see the glow from underneath his brother’s battle body.


	24. Sweet love of mine (Underswap Soriel sin)

“...Oh, Sans, I’m afraid you’re a little earlier than I expected you this week...”, Toriel said, prompting the short skeleton to nod, blushing softly and hiding the fact by adjusting his scarf with utmost care.

“M-MWEH, YES, PAPYRUS WAS... WELL, I _HAD_ EXPECTED THAT HE WOULD FALL ASLEEP AFTER DINNER, AS HE USUALLY DOES, BUT IT SEEMS THAT LAZYBONES CAN STILL SURPRISE ME AFTER ALL!!  HE SAID _HE_ WOULD WASH THE DISHES AND THEN HE TOLD ME TO COME OVER EARLIER AND GIVE YOU A PLEASANT SURPRISE!”

“Well, he is certainly right, it _is_ a very _pleasant_ surprise to see my Royal Companion an hour earlier than expected... and it is very promising to hear that Papyrus decided to wash dishes for you, no?”, Toriel remarked mirthfully, prompting a soft chuckle from Sans.

“MWEH, YEAH, I GUESS YOU’RE RIGHT, TORIEL-”

“Well, isn’t that a little bit of pride in your voice?”, Toriel teased, gently running her hand over Sans’ shoulder, smiling when she found Sans’ eternal smile broaden just a little.  Then, however, she returned to the matter at hand.  “...Well, I hope you do not mind me changing into something more comfortable than this - the pauldrons are very heavy, and this mantle weighs almost just as much as the armor does.  Formal Royal Guard meetings are very tedious in more than just the obvious ways...”, she said, gaining her a wink from the slight skeleton.

“I CAN ONLY IMAGINE, TORIEL!  BUT GO AHEAD AND CHANGE!  IN THE MEANTIME I, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, WILL MAKE THE BOTH OF US SOME HEALTHY AND WHOLESOME DINNER!!  I PROMISE YOU, IT WILL BE VERY DELICIOUS!”

“Hahaha... why, of course it will be, I have yet to find one of your meals displeasing.”, Toriel said, stepping back to allow Sans passage to her kitchen, listening to his running footsteps and then the soft opening and closing of cupboards before winding her way to her bedroom, musing that Sans was indeed everything she could ever hope for in a monster: strong yet kind, fierce yet patient and gentle, with a soul that shone like a million stars.  “...Oh, he truly is magnificent...”, she whispered to herself, closing the door to her bedroom before walking over to the armor stand in the far corner of her room, next to her wardrobe.  As if by destiny, her deep purple sleeveless dress, with the royal crest embroidered on the front in a lighter, lavender-colored thread was the first dress she saw, and she took it out with a broad smile, figuring it would do just fine for a leisurely evening with her Sans.

*******************************************************************************

“DOO DOO DOO, LA LA LA DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO...”, Sans hummed merrily as he stirred the simmering vegetables for his famous tacos.  The smell rising from the pot was nothing short of mouth-watering already, and he hadn’t even started adding the spices that Alphys had taught him about that week!  He was certainly going to use them, because Alphys had said that it’d make his tacos taste at least twice as good... “AND TWICE AS GOOD AS AMAZING IS... WELL, SURELY SOMETHING GREAT!  ...BESIDES, THESE ARE FOR TORIEL, SHE DESERVES THE BEST FOOD I CAN MAKE!”  Picking up the tune he’d been humming again after one final stir, Sans started looking around for the spices he’d need.

However, when he checked the cupboard right next to the stove, he found something else entirely.

“...H-HEY, WHAT’S _THIS_?  IT... LOOKS A LITTLE LIKE REALLY REALLY WHITE CORN FLOUR... WELL, AS LONG AS IT ISN’T SUGAR, I’M SURE IT’S OKAY!  ...PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS TELLING ME NOT TO TOUCH THAT STUFF BECAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME... MWEH, BUT THAT WALL WAS JUST OLD AND IN A POOR STATE ANYWAY, THERE IS NO WAY I BLASTED MY WAY THROUGH IT... AND AS FOR THIS STUFF, LET’S SEE WHAT IT TASTES LIKE!!  MAYBE THIS IS JUST THE INGREDIENT MY TACO STUFFING NEEDS!!”

********************************************************************************

Toriel had just put on a more easy-fitting bra when she heard running footsteps accompanied by an overly excited shout.

“TORIIIIIII TORI-TORI-TORI-TORI-TORI-TORIIIIIIIIIII _TOOOOOORIIIIIIIII_ MWEH HEH HEH HEH TORIEEEEEELLLLLLL-”

And then her door was kicked open so hard the lock came off.

“S-sans, what...?”, she started, seeing her lover stand in the doorway, looking at her in confusion.  Then, slowly, his gaze changed from wondering to wandering, from warm to heated, and she meant to speak up again only to be knocked backwards, toppling onto the bed as Sans gave her a full-body hug.

“TORIIIII, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO LOOK SO NICE?!”  His hands were fumbling with her bra, the movements more ferocious than the situation warranted, and for a second, the queen of all monsters felt fear overtake her. Was Sans having another dominant heat cycle?  Was Papyrus sending him off earlier a sign?

"S-sans-"

"MWEH HEH... I CAN'T SEEM TO... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASE _PLEASE_ T-TAKE THAT OFF SO I CAN PROPERLY CARESS YOU, MY DEAREST SWEETEST TORIIIIII...", he commented, his bones not shivering as much as vibrating intensely, and suddenly Toriel realized that he was in a sugar rush.  Papyrus had warned her about those - never give him sugar, or coffee, or anything remotely akin to that, because it'd send him into a sweets- or caffeine-fuelled frenzy - but she had taken his advice to heart and had put all of the sweets and sugar she used for cooking in the topmost cupboards.  So how...  "O-OH NO... I'M SORRY...  AHH TORIIIII TORI OH MY SWEETEST MY DEAREST...", Sans said with a whimper as he dropped the shreds of what had been comfortable underwear, pressing his face against her bosom eagerly and nuzzling her breasts, breathing excitedly even before allowing his bony fingers to roam over her body.  "OH TORI... OH TORI, TORI TORI TORI... YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL, SO WARM, SO GREAT... SO MAGNIFICENT JUST LIKE ME...", he said loudly, pressing his entire body against hers with a ferocity that was counterbalanced by the words he spoke.  "I COULD THINK OF NO OTHER WOMAN THAT EVER EVER EVER WOULD BE A MATCH FOR ME... OH TORI... TORIIIIIII..."

"S-sans... you're certainly very... eager today... _mmmmh..._ "  Toriel meant to speak, but Sans' highly energetic state made his fingers shake and lent extra urgency to his caresses, while his entire body glowed with a light blue glow, like he was the filament in a great lightbulb.  His touch was unsubtle, fingers squeezing and groping greedily at her breasts and pinching her nipples just enough to make it feel hot rather than painful, and Toriel relented with a soft, heated groan.  "M-my magnificent Sans... oh, w-what..."

"MMM, TORIIIIIIII... OH, TORIEEEEEELLLLLLL...  P-PLEASE... PLEASE _OH PLEASE... T-TOUCH ME TOO..._ "  That threw Toriel.  He was being bold, just like he'd be in his dominant heats; but he lacked the actual dominance, and his touches, though very eager, were still aimed to bring her pleasure first and foremost.  It was that that made Toriel decide to smile and slowly move her clawed hand over Sans' sternum and then down his ribs to his spine while his fingers played with her nipples, very gently rolling the sensitive nubs in between his digits.  "OH, MY SWEETEST... M-MY MOST BEAUTIFUL... _AHHHH!!_ "  Toriel's hand had arrived at his pubis, finding his magic already shaped, and her slow, almost teasing strokes had him arch his back into the touch and thrust into her hand.  It was genuinely a hallmark of his sweet nature that it took only a second of not touching her in turn before he redoubled his efforts, his sugar-fuelled supplies of magic shaping into a tongue and very gently circling her nipple.

" _Oh my s-stars_ , Sans!", the queen gasped, shaking under the ministrations.  She self-consciously rubbed her thighs together, feeling the almost burning heat that had built up between her legs, wondering how wet to the touch she'd already be but not daring to spread her legs and find out.

Sans, however, seemed to have other plans.  With a muffled moan, he slid down her body and away from her touch until his feet hit the ground again, but he gently nuzzled her stomach and grasped her legs without a second's hesitation, parting them.

"T-TORIEL... OH TORI-TORI-TORI- _TORI-TORI-TORIIIIIIIIIII..._  Y-YOU SMELL SO DELICIOUS... C-CAN I..."

"O-oh... Sans, you- mmmnnn..."  Sans' fingers moved up her thigh, and she could feel how they very lightly caressed her outer folds, getting slick just from the superficial caress.

"T-TORIEL... MY LADY, MY _EVERYTHING_...  I WANT... _OH I WANT YOU S-SO SO SO BAAAAAAAD..._  J-JUST _SEEING_ YOU LIKE THIS... OH, MY BLOOD IS L-LIKE FIRE... W-WANT TO PUT IT OUT... OH TORI... _TORI TORI TORI... P-PLEASE..._ "  Even as he spoke, his fingers dove into her greedily, two at once from the get-go, and she gasped and arched her back.  His movements were eager and certainly deep, but not without being aimed at pleasuring her.  In fact, his fingers pressed all the right spots within her, making her pant and moan her lover's name all the more and all the louder.

"Sans... oh, S-sans, my magnificent - _ahh!_ \- S-sans, oh my love...   _p-please..._ ", she pleaded, and just like always, she didn't have to finish the thought.  Sans smiled at her and crawled back onto the bed - Toriel scooted backwards to give him more room to maneuver - and then gently grasped her hips.

"TORIEL, M-MY SOULMATE... YOU ARE... YOU'RE SO PERFECT, SO SO PERFECT... _UHNNN..._ "  Sans slowly slid his magic-wrought dick inside of her while he spoke, and when he was all the way inside her, his pubic bone pressed against her outer labia, he breathed out shakily before looking her dead in the eye and speaking warmly in continuation: "MY SOUL YEARNS FOR YOURS, TORIEL, OH MY SWEETEST SOULMATE..."

"I... S-sans... My soul too, I'm yours- _ohh!!_ "  As soon as she'd acknowledged her need, Sans' grip on her hips grew more steady and he thrust into her deep and fast from the get-go, his thrusts stopping just shy from crashing his pelvis into her more fleshy nethers.  He didn't speak anymore, preserving his energy for their lovemaking - and for the dozen or so disembodied hands that he suddenly conjured out of thin air, all glowing a bright sky blue and settling onto her.  It wasn't the first time he'd summoned the hands - the memories of his first dominant heat were still sharp - but this time they didn't restrain her or pull her into his ministrations.  This time, the hands were gently caressing her face, softly squeezing her breasts, intertwining their magic digits with her own... they were lavishing her with tenderness, with affectionate gestures.  And Sans' thrusts, though deep and fast and relentless, were clearly held back and aimed at making her enjoy their lovemaking without any kind of discomfort.

"M-MY QUEEN... I... S-SO _CLOSE_ ALREADY...", Sans admitted, panting hard, magic dripping off his skull like sweat, and Toriel moaned out her reply.

"Oh... mmmh... j-just a little more... J-just- _ahhh... oh stars...!_ "  Sans' entire body still glowed with magic, and the energy of the hands as well as the magic he'd used to shape his genitalia was pulsing in tune with his soul, which was already hanging in between them.  Her own soul was slowly pressing outside of the confines of her body, and her heated moans seemed to time with another fraction of an inch higher it rose.  Yet she still needed a little more, a little extra push, and she knew just what she craved.  "S-sans... oh... s-stop _holding back..._ "

"B-BUT I... AHHHH TORI... D-DON'T WANNA HURT YOU... _OH M-MY STARS...!_ ", the short skeleton panted out, but Toriel shook her head.

"Y-you won't... _ohhh, Sans, please..._ it will be okay...  just please-"  Sans didn't answer positively, but his grip on her hips got hard enough to leave the faintest of bruises and his hips canted forward harder, his pubic bone crashing into hers with each thrust.  Her soul was fully detached from her in mere seconds, winding its way to Sans' for their completion, and then, with one last thrust, Sans leaned forward and their souls touched and connected, and Toriel blanked to all but the sound of her lover's voice.

"AHHH T-TORI OH TORI-TORI- _TORIII-TORIIIII-TORIIIIIIIIIII!!"_  He rode out his high into her, his magic spilling inside her hotly, the scent of blueberry blossoms rising up overpoweringly in the air around them.  It took a minute or two for him to completely power down from his climax - more probably than not due to the excess sugar he'd had...

Thinking of that made Toriel wonder once again what she'd missed, and she looked her lover over as he slowly crawled up to lay face to face with her.

"Sans... did you... eat something sweet before?", she asked, and Sans sighed happily before answering.

"MWEH!  UH, Y-YES!  I WAS HOPING IT WOULD BE A GOOD NEW INGREDIENT FOR MY TACO FILLINGS, SINCE IT LOOKED LIKE FLOUR, BUT... IT WAS VERY SWEET, LIKE PAPYRUS' HONEY!"  With a start, Toriel remembered what she hadn't put out of reach of her lover and his bad tolerance for sugar.

"...I imagine it _did_ taste like honey - that wasn't flour, my magnificent Sans, but _powdered sugar_.  It's no problem.  Just... let us stay away from that from now on, hmm?", she asked sweetly, closing her eyes and allowing the afterglow of their passionate lovemaking to roll over her again for the time being, figuring that Sans would have powered down again due to the intensity of their coupling.  However...  " _Ohhh!!_ "  Her eyes flew open as she felt a warm, wet touch to her nethers: looking down, she saw that Sans had scooted out of her embrace again and was laving at her folds with his tongue.  When he came up again, he had smears of transparent, almost barely-visible fluids on his teeth and cheekbones, the lightest lavender-blue tinge to them showing that he was indeed eating her out.  " _S-sans..._ "

"M-MWEH... MY TORIEL... Y-YOU TASTE SWEET, _SO SWEET..._ SWEETER THAN THAT POWDERED SUGAR... OH, L-LET ME _TASTE YOU_ , MY BEAUTIFUL SOULMATE..."

Her only answer was a gentle nudge of her heel against his skull, prodding him onward.  She couldn't stop him, and she didn't have the least inclination to try at all.

********************************************************************************

"OH MY GOODNESS, I AM S-SO SORRY, MY DARLING QUEEN TORIEL..."  Sans, clad in his battle body which he'd hastily thrown on, stood looking at the ground, a blush of shame crawling over his cheeks, and Toriel felt mildly sorry for his plight.

"Well, Sans, it... wasn't your fault.  I should have put that sugar away."

"N-NO, TORIEL!  I S-SHOULD HAVE... RESISTED YOU!  I SHOULD HAVE STAYED OFF THAT ODD FLOUR-Y SUBSTANCE THAT I DIDN'T KNOW!"

"Well, there's no harm done.  We'll just... have to change our plans slightly.", Toriel said, kissing her lover gently on the top of his skull, still faintly feeling the residual magic that had run off his entire body like sweat dripped off her at times.  Her own dress was just as hastily put on as his clothing, and she realized that they were indeed lucky enough for things to have gotten no further than they had.  If they'd had to call in assistance... explaining how they'd ended up in the situation would've been very unbecoming.  Sans seemed to feel that as well, if his next words were any indication.

"M-MWEH HEH... YES, THINGS COULD'VE BEEN MUCH WORSE, THAT IS TRUE... BUT STILL... NEXT TIME I WILL NOT BE SO... DISTRACTED!"  She half-expected Sans to say 'next time, I will not succumb so easily to my base needs' seeing as he was very bashful about his desire for her, but it seemed that her skeletal lover wasn't thinking along those lines at all.  "NEXT TIME, I WILL REMEMBER TO SWITCH OFF THE STOVE BEFORE POUNCING YOU, MY DEAREST..."


	25. Now you're playing with fire (Undertale Papyrus x female!Reader sin)

“H-HUMAN?” There’s a knock on your door following the sound of the tall skeleton’s voice, and you grin as you get up out of the enormous bed and open the door for him.  “I... I CAME HERE AS YOU ASKED...”, he says softly - or, well, as softly as the Great Papyrus can manage it - and you can tell by his blush that he guesses why you called him over.  You can tell he has trouble holding your gaze, his eyes wandering over your form that’s clad only in a robe, and you see the faintest glow in his breeches, the dark blue almost completely blending in with the color of his ‘battle body’ pants, which only makes you grin more.

Papyrus and you... well, first, you went on a date together, since he thought that was what he needed to do to make friends.  He admitted to having gone on dates with all of his friends - a fact they all denied when prompted about it - and you went in prepared for a nice hangout. Dinner and a movie.  Which turned into dinner, a movie, and a cup of hot chocolate at his place.

Which, in turn, ended the both of you up in his racecar bed, where you got pounded into the mattress.  _Repeatedly_.

When he got riled up, Papyrus switched from his usual shy and innocent personality to a more lewd and eager one, you quickly found out - a process that didn’t work instantly but slowly.  You’d start out kissing and he’d whimper, begging for more without actually begging; you’d palm his pubic bone and his magic would surge to meet your touch, molding itself into a perfectly formed dick; you’d stroke him right to oblivion and he’d curse softly, almost inaudibly, in time with his thrusts into your palm... and at times when your lovemaking grew extremely hot, he promptly turned the tables and made damn sure you knew who was fucking who.  Complete with telling you, in that loud and slightly overly-affected voice of his, to ‘LET THE WORLD KNOW YOU ARE COMPLETELY SATISFIED BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ EXPERT FUCKING’.  You still grin at the memory.

But tonight, you’re going to see just how much control he’ll manage to retain...

“HUMAN?  YOU ARE GRINNING MOST BECOMINGLY, BUT-”  You pull the skeleton towards the bed, intent to just sit on the edge but Papyrus instantly lays back and you go with it.  “W-WELL... I DID KIND OF GUESS THAT YOU WANTED S-SOME PASSIONATE KISSING SESSIONS, S-SO... I AM FULLY PREPARED FOR THAT, HUMAN!!”, he answers your thoughts as his arm slides smoothly around your shoulders, prompting you to chuckle before kissing him lightly on the teeth and mentally chuckling when he summons an ecto-tongue to french kiss you.  Well, he  _is_ already a little worked up, you muse.  Papyrus and you both love frenching: kissing sloppily, getting your tongues as closely pressed together as humanly or monsterly possibly, the saliva - well, on his part it’s magic-fuelled saliva, but he  _loves_ the ‘HUMAN JUICY KISSAGE’ too much for you to protest.  Besides, his saliva tastes like grapes, so kissing him is like eating millions of those sweet, savory, juicy fruits, a handful at a time.  Or like drinking quality wine.  It makes your head spin in a similar fashion, too.  “H-HUMAN.... DARLING... YOU ARE APPLYING THE JUICY HUMAN KISSAGE AGAIN!   I... DO ADMIRE THIS AMOUNT OF PASSION IN YOU...”  You sit up, grinning down at him, not bothering to straighten your robe which has loosened just a little, showing a bit more of your skin.  Papyrus’ eyes cannot move away from you, and you decide to use his increasing inability to focus on anything beside your exposed collarbone and neck to your advantage.

“Mmhmm, Papyrus...  You taste so wonderful...  I wonder, could I... touch you?”, you ask, grinning when he instantly blushes and the blue glow in his groin starts to become noticeably brighter than the fabric of his pants, not asking which kind of touch you mean.  So much for that innocence of his. Well, he still  _presents_ as innocent, but he just... has a reasonable working knowledge of sex now, which he doesn’t generally display.  Only you and a handful of others know how downright lewd and lustful he turns when he gets all wound up. And you’re fairly sure the handful of others will keep their lips (or lack thereof) sealed to preserve Papyrus’ image.  After all, he does stand alongside Frisk as an ambassador’s aide, and the monster community wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him as anything other than perfect and pure.  And, you muse as Papyrus pauses to allow you a much-needed breath before reconnecting your tongues, he certainly is perfect and pure.  There’s not a single impure thing about him, even when he indulges like this.  His thoughts are almost always focused on the other party - bringing others joy through his friendship, furthering himself with all due attention for the others’ needs - and the way he goes out of his way to make everything perfect makes  _him_ perfect by extension.  All in all, when you groan into the kiss happily, it’s because you  _are_ happy with him as a friend-with-benefits.  Or lover.  Or bonefriend. Whichever he prefers, really.

But for now, you focus on the more important matter at hand again.  You detach from him and, ignoring his soft and surprised groan, and start kissing his jawbone, and then his neck vertebrae, parting your lips and sucking on the bone.  It has the same effect as when you’d nip at a human’s neck: instantly, your skeletal lover shivers and presses into your lips, tilting his head sidewards a little to allow you more room to work with.  “...Mmm, Papyrus, I want to touch you so, so much...”, you whisper loud enough for him to hear over the faint rattle of his bones, and his answer comes almost instantly.

“MNYEH... H-HUMAN, YOU CAN TOUCH ME... ALL YOU WANT...”  You know you have him slowly tipping towards eager, though he still looks away from you as he speaks up, and you grin warmly down at him.  He’s nearly there...

“...Can I... tease you a little? Tie you down on the bed so you won’t squirm too much?  I promise I’ll be very gentle and careful, just like you always are...”  If you didn’t know Papyrus as well as you do, his soft squeak would catch you off guard; but you are  _intimately_ familiar with him and all of his preferences by now, and he likes being restrained.  The loss of control over the situation always makes him all the more eager to take back control.  And you two have all night here, so you intend to make your bony lover as riled up as you can manage.

“W-WELL, OKAY THEN, HUMAN!  YOU ARE ALLOWED!  I-IF AT ANY POINT I FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, THOUGH... W-WILL YOU UNTIE ME?”  He sits up on the bed, showing he certainly is up for the idea, his eyes knowing, and you smile as you sit up as well, kissing his cheekbone softly.

“Heh, you want an out?”, you ask, and Papyrus blushes, looking at his hands and speaking in a muted, meek tone.

“NYEH... Y-YES.  I... I TRUST YOU, NATURALLY!  BUT IF YOU  _DO_ HURT ME BY ACCIDENT, M-MY DEAR, YOU  WILL NEED TO BE AWARE!  I MEAN... OUR P-PASSIONATE LOVE-MAKING SESSIONS NEED TO BE... ENJOYABLE FOR THE BOTH OF US, NO?”  Sometimes, you forget that he is generally such a sweet, shy monster, a rarity that needs to be treasured and nurtured.

Somehow, that thought makes you feel a little bashful yourself as you smile at him.  You have to force yourself to remember that this is all about making things hot for the both of you, because you’re  _this_ close to not going through with your idea.  But the times when you’ve reduced him to a drooling, shaking, writhing mess are so few and so deliciously powerful in your memories - the roughness he takes on when he gets past the point where he cares about anyone but you and him, the attention to making you cry out his name at the top of your lungs...  Really, how could you say no to that? It pulls you back and your smile goes from sweet to sly again.

“...Papyrus, honey, if you feel uncomfortable, or uneasy, or in pain, or  _anything at all_ that keeps you from enjoying this... then just say ‘nicecream’ and I’ll untie you and cuddle and kiss you back to your comfort zone, okay?”, you say in earnest, giving him the out he wants in return for handing the reins to you, and his answer is holding his arms stiffly behind his back, prompting a laugh from you.  “Hehe, not just yet!  You’ll need to get out of that battle body first, honey!”, you say softly, prompting a blush to spread across his skull as he nimbly sets to work removing the pauldrons and then pulling the shirt over his head.  His ribcage is so delicate, so handsome - slender bones making up a broad frame that you have lovingly and patiently explored so often that you know it by heart.

“M-MY PANTS TOO?”, he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper, and you smile, shaking your head.

“I can take those off for you... let’s get your wrists secured first, hmm?”  He puts his arms behind his back again, his eyes glowing a faint dark blue as you secure his wristbones with the piece of cloth you acquired for just this occasion.  Once you’re certain he’s tied up tightly, with no means of escape, you wiggle your eyebrows at him and kiss him lightly before dropping the robe entirely.  Papyrus hums appreciatively, making a movement that shows he was going to reach out and touch you, but his hands being tied behind his back made that impossible and the hum turns to a sigh.  “Aw, Papyrus, honey... don’t get down... I’m giving you  _all_ the attention you’ll  _ever_ need, babe...”, you whisper into the place where his ears would be if he had any, meanwhile tugging at the waistline of his shorts to tug them down.  Papyrus suffers being unclothed, even lifting his legbones to allow you to get his final remaining clothes off him, and soon he’s just sitting with nothing left to cover him but the scarf he never removes - and that does little to veil the deep blue magic aimlessly swirling around at his pubis.  “...Oh, you look so handsome...”, you admit, kissing him very lightly before getting up from the bed and walking slowly to your bag.  Papyrus groans even though he does not comment on the loss of proximity, but you feel his eyes on you and you quickly retrieve what you were looking for.  “...Now, I want to try something a little... different today...”, you say gently, bringing the items over to him.  A cute little vibrator that the two of you have played around with before - with wireless remote control via your phone, making sure you can control how messy things get for him - a bottle of massage oil that can double as lubricant, a very nicely-shaped dildo in dark blue that lit up from within and which you’ve often used when Papyrus was too busy performing his guard duties to attend to your needs, and finally the pride of your newly purchased collection: a double-headed dildo, its color a lively pink, shaped just like an actual dick would be on both ends.  Papyrus looks from the item to you and then back to the item in confusion.

“H-HUMAN... DARLING, I... I’M AFRAID I DO NOT UNDERSTAND...  I... T-THIS LOOKS LIKE MY OWN-”  You kiss him deeply, longingly, his tongue instinctively seeking yours and laving over it, but you don’t kiss him for long, pulling away teasingly.

“...That’s what I meant when I said I want to try and do things a little differently... Your magic can shape itself into anything you want, right?”, you ask, and Papyrus nods.

“Y-YOU... WANT ME TO MAKE... L-LADY PARTS THEN?  BUT... BUT WHY?”  He shifts uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, and you wait for a split second to allow him to follow it up with arguments how he can satisfy you much, much better than a piece of plastic, or by voicing the dreaded out you’ve given him, but then he sighs and furrows his bony brow.  “THERE, HUMAN!  I... HAVE SHAPED MYSELF LIKE I HAVE FOUND YOU TO BE SHAPED!  ALL... FLESHY, AND WARM... AND WET...”  He sighs again when you take a second to admire the precision with which he’s replicated your own vagina.  From the cute little nub of his ecto-clitoris to the deep blue, slightly glowing folds, still closed but already a little moist as far as you can tell upon sight... it’s really a display of just how perfect Papyrus’ hold on his magic is.

Now to see how perfect your bony lover’s hold on himself is, you muse as you gently push Papyrus backwards onto the bed and press that cute little vibrator inside of him.  It’s not on yet, and you doubt you’ll need to get to that just yet when he  _squeals_ and raises his legs at the sudden entry.

“H-HUMAN!!  P-PLEASE, A LITTLE W-WA-WARNING NEXT TIME?!”, he says hotly, though nowhere near as scoldingly as he can, and you nod, relenting for a moment while he’s still coherent enough to appreciate it.

“...Sorry, love.  Now... I’ll help you back up and I’ll turn that on, and  _you_ get that show I promised you...”  Papyrus nods uncertainly, clearly wondering what to expect, and you walk back to the table, taking the desk’s spindly chair and putting it squarely in front of him, then picking up your phone.  You intend to turn it on, only for Papyrus to show discomfort; deciding to remind him what this would be all about, you take the massage oil and drizzle it over your front.

Instantly, Papyrus’ eyes snap back to you, and you grin.

“H-H-HUMAN...”

“Mmm, Papyrus, love, wasn’t this what you’d been hoping for?”, you ask, letting the oil slowly run down your chest and stomach before beginning to rub it into your skin slowly and sensuously.  You can hear his teeth chatter and his bones rattling as his eyes follow the motions of your fingers, squeezing and pressing into your flesh eagerly, which prompts you to go with it and moan softly for your skeletal lover.  “ _Ohh, Papyrus..._   Just relax, and enjoy...”

“HUMAN... D-DEAREST...”, he mutters, blushing dark enough to negate the glow in his groin, and then he draws a deep breath - skeletons don’t need to breathe since they don’t have lungs that need filling, but they  _do_ breathe when they’re into something heavy, something that would have humans panting.  “M-MAYBE... T-THE PHONE...”  Grinning, you pick up your phone again: your fingers are slippery from the massage oil but you manage to select the right application and you press 1 to start nice and easy.

Instantly, Papyrus’ spine straightens.  It’s just the lowest setting but you can tell with ease that he’s already well and truly excited just from the way his body trembles.  And then...

“NYEHHH...”  It’s almost imperceptible but oh so clear, the way he starts to gently push his hips down into the mattress in an attempt to get the vibrator deeper within himself.  It’s only a small thing - you have no idea what Papyrus is used to when conjuring an ectovagina, but you figured it was better to go small.  “AH, HUMAN...”, he says, and you lick your lips, returning to the task at hand of slicking your body up.  Your chest and abdomen glisten in the low light of the room - a tacky chandelier, lavish and elaborate even in a place like MTT Resort.

“Papyrus, keep making those sounds... mmmm, show me you  _enjoy_ this little treat I’m giving you, and I’ll treat you  _so well_...”  To demonstrate what you mean, you keep the phone handy and press ‘2′, upping the vibrations that are riling up Papyrus.  The effect is slower as turning it on has been: you see a shudder run through Papyrus and he lets slip another soft “NYEHHH...” before continuing his subtle grinding motions.  Then, you drizzle a little bit of the massage oil onto your hands and you turn to face the wall opposite him, giving him a clear view of your ass and the back of your legs as you bend over slightly and start slathering them with the oil, making them shine just as much as your stomach.  “ _Mmmm,_ Papyrus... oh honey... wouldn’t you love being the one to rub this oil all over me?”

“N-NYEHHH...”, he groans, his hips pressing a little less subtly into the mattress below him.  “HUMAN... OH WOWIE...”

You wiggle your hips, and you can literally hear his bones shake like reeds.  Deciding to up the ante, you take the bottle of massage oil and your phone, walking over to him slowly.

“...I figure you’d want a closer look...”, you say, dripping some of the oil from the bottle onto your thigh and gently rubbing it into your skin, first moving your hands kneadingly to your calves and then back up.  Grinning, you skirt your fingers around your own very heated folds, feeling the blood pumping all the more clearly there.  You want so badly to touch yourself, to really give Papyrus a show of what kind of pleasure you’re chasing, but you relent for the moment, switching to his other side so you can slather up your other leg - but not before you crank up the vibrator, skipping to level 4 and getting rewarded by an unceremonious moan.

“UHNNNN...  HU-HUMANNN...”, his voice is a little pleading already, and you grin as you consider giving in, discarding the idea a second later in favor of your original plan.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you hanging, Papyrus... oh, but a little teasing is okay, right?”, you say lightly, and Papyrus grits his teeth together before answering.

“Y-YES... OKAY... AHHHH HUMAN... OH DARLING...”  His hips are actually rolling into the mattress now, and you allow him that little reprieve from your teasing for the duration of slicking your leg up with the massage oil just like you did the other leg.  Only this time, your fingers don’t just skim your own privates, but they very deliberately press against your own heated flesh, and you exaggerate your reaction a little for Papyrus’ general benefit.

“ _Ohhh baby...”_ , you moan in a sultry tone, canting your hips a little into the touch.  You’re standing right next to him, close enough for him to reach out and pull you against him had he had his arms free still - but he doesn’t, and so he’s stuck panting softly as your fingers nimbly dance over your own body, slow circular motions with the pad of your index finger, drawing pleasure from yourself just like he would do.  You can feel your labia spread apart like a rosebloom opening to the summer sun, and Papyrus is entranced.  “ _Papyrus_ , oh god...”

“S-STARS...”, he said, and then, when you move your fingers lower and circle your entrance, angling your hips just a little forward so he can see what you’re doing without having to stoop, his tongue lolls out of the confines of his mouth and he groans loudly.  “OH MY STARS, HUMAN... I... P-PLEASE...”  So he’s already at the point where his needs supercede his innate shyness, you muse, though you don’t relent.  Your fingers glide over your skin and dip inside of yourself, just the tips really, and the moan you let slip is no longer meant solely to tease, because it feels  _so good_ to touch yourself knowing that Papyrus would love nothing more than to do it for you.  “P-PLEASE, OH,  _PLEASE, H-HUMAN_...”

“...Mmm, please  _what_ , darling?”, you ask, though you know all too well what he wants from you.  His entire skull shines a faint blue, magic gathering in small pinpricks all over his cranium like sweat would on someone of your own race, and his tongue is now dripping royal blue magical saliva as well.  Looking down for a second, you notice that he’s staining the sheets a nice dark blue as well, his inky juices smearing out over the pristine white.

“PLEASE... L-LOVE... PLEASE, N-NO MORE TEASING... I CAN’T... CAN’T TAKE THIS...”, he mutters, shaking his head softly though not able to close his eyes, and that brings a grin to your features.

“Just a little longer?  I promise you, it’ll be worth your while...”, you croon, leaning against him and kissing his jaw, licking up a stray bead of saliva that has formed there, right underneath his canine, keeping it on the tip of your tongue and showing it to him just to rile him a little more.  That pinprick of royal blue on your pink tongue serves as a reminder of how you hope to satisfy him, you hope; a second later, when he shudders but nods, you know it did what you intended.

You remove your fingers from yourself and slowly step back from the bed.  Time to turn up the heat a little, you figure.  You don’t want to tease him until he breaks, but...  Something slightly cruel inside of you reconsiders that thought and tells you it’d be fun to see him break down over you, but that part of you grows silent when you squeeze just a tiny dot of massage oil from the bottle and use it to slick up the dark blue dildo, switching on the internal light at the same time.  Papyrus’ eyes grow large, his gaze gaining desperation, and you blow him a kiss.

“Just a  _little_ bit longer, Papyrus...”  You notice the movements of his hips grow jittery, his magic shining all over his body like the crystals in the Wishing Cave, and you don’t want him to come just yet so you press 0 on your phone and the vibrator stops abruptly, prompting a whine from your skeletal lover.

“ _H-HUMAN...!_   W-WHY DID YOU... STOP IT?”

“I didn’t want you to lose it yet, love...  I want you to save that for when the teasing is done and the actual lovemaking starts.”, you say, ignoring his whines and putting the dildo down onto the seat of the spindly chair, right in front of him.  He’ll be able to see every last millimeter of that plastic replica of his own choice of genitalia as it disappears into (or reappears from) your folds.  Now  _you_ shudder.  You feel heat sweep through you like a rocket blasting off from your groin and hitting your brain.  “ _Oh, Papyrus, babe..._ All I want is to give you a show you’ll  _never_ forget...”

“I... U-UNDERSTAND THAT MUCH... BUT I WOULD BE...  _N-NYEH..._  I’D BE M-M-MUCH HAPPIER... I-IF YOUR SHOW INCLUDED... S-SOME  _RELIEF_  FOR ME...”, your bony lover pants out, now fully into the glow - though not so far drunk with desire as to forego all of his innate shyness.

Time to shatter some mental walls, you think as you lower yourself onto the blue glowing dildo, taking just the tip inside of you at first.  It’s a perfect replica of the cock he conjures whenever you two have sex, so it feels more than a little familiar to slide down onto it.  And you feel your body accomodate it perfectly without so much as a single thought, showing how well you and Papyrus mesh together in the physical (or, well,  _pseudo-physical)_  sense.

“ _Pappy... mmmmh...”_ , you drawl out while slowly pressing lower and taking in more and more, agonizingly slowly both to allow Papyrus to properly appreciate the view and to stave off your own release.  You don’t want to come just yet, not without making sure Papyrus knows you’re not done with him.  “Oh, t-this is... so... so good...”

“H-HUMAN...”, Papyrus whines in response, the movements of his hips frantic as he searches for friction from the sheets below him, but they give him nothing.  He’s still high-strung, still eager for release... and then he squeaks out in slightly offended but also highly  _arousing_ tones: “I-IT ISN’T FAIR THAT YOU GET TO HAVE  _ALL_ THE DAMN FUN!”

That tone, that first slip-up where he curses, and the sudden sensation of the dildo filling you to the brim, the tip of it just barely pushing against your walls in the best places... you stand no chance and your response turns into a long, inarticulate moan as your body seizes up and squeezes the invading artificial cock for all it’s worth.  You suppose that you moan Papyrus’ name somewhere in between the hazy seconds, because your lover looks at you pleadingly, half smug and half frenzied, when your body decides to cooperate again.

“...oh, love... wow...  T-that was, heh... that was something else...”, you breathe out, letting the pleasure die away again before slowly lifting yourself up from the chair and then sliding the dildo back out of yourself.

“H-HONEY... PLEASE, UNTIE ME...  I THINK... I WANT T-TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD...”, Papyrus tries, his hips having diminished their movements again, showing he’s sufficiently eased down from near-climax.  Slyly, you reach behind yourself and push 9, the highest setting, and then you watch as Papyrus’ entire body shivers and his hips come back to life.  “OH STARS  _OH STARS OH HUMAN OH HOLY SH- AHHHH-_ ”  And then you push 1 again and Papyrus sobs in frustration, his hips trying to do their best recreating the furious stimulation he’d just been subjected to.  “H-HUMAN... DEAREST... Y-YOU ENJOY MAKING ME... S-SUFFER?”, he complains, and you walk over to him, kissing him on the top of his skull tenderly before kissing him deeply, his tongue laving over and under and against yours wildly as he desperately takes whatever added stimulation you give him, but you withdraw after only half a minute.

“I don’t want to make you suffer... and whatever suffering you think you’re enduring now, you’ll get to make up for it with pure pleasure...  mmm, Papyrus, honey... maybe I should make you look as sleek and shiny as I do, no?”  You take the bottle of massage oil and pour some on your hands, mindful of the fact that Papyrus was sensitive.  Gently, you start with his claviculae and scapulae, greasing them up until the porous surface of his bones look like delicate china, and then you move to his upper ribs.  He shudders at the feeling of your fingertips over his sternum and ribs but you can tell the stimulation of the vibrator and the touches to his ribcage aren’t enough to bring him off, which is good.  Slowly, inch by inch, you slather his ribs in the massage oil, and his sternum follows as well - all the while, Papyrus keeps gasping softly, keeps pleadingly crooning for you to untie him, to let him treat you right, to not stop the rush of pleasure he’s feeling...  Tentatively, you brush an oil-slicked finger over his spine and your bony lover shudders, his hips jerking against the bedsheets which are now irrepairably stained a deep blue throughout.  So touching his spine, and most probably his pelvis, will be too much...  “...I think I’ll wait a second before I go on... you seem a little too high-strung for this...”, you breathe out, and Papyrus groans.

“H-HUMAN... I... I AM NOT... H-HIGH-STRUNG... OH STARS... OH ANGEL OF MERCY,  _S-SO CLOSE..._ ”

You switch the vibrator off again and this time his response is even more vehement.

“OH SHOOT... H-HUMAN, PLEASE... D-DON’T...  _SWITCH IT BACK ON..._  OH FUCK...  _NNNNGH..._ ”  His frustrated growl and swear makes your hair stand on end, it is so perfect.  Once again, you have to remind yourself that denying him pleasure now will only make him more eager when you  _do_ untie him, and it’s that thought that prompts you to waggle your finger at him.

“I don’t want you to go off without me just yet, Papyrus, baby...  After all, isn’t it better when we both come together?”, you whisper against his skull, and he shudders but does not answer.  That suits you just fine, you muse.  “...Mmm, think I need to show you just how good you’ll feel when I untie you, not too far from now...”  Instead of sitting down onto the chair again, you instead pick up the still-illuminated dark blue dildo and walk over to stand in front of Papyrus, who now looks like he’s drenched in watered-down ink.  One last little show can’t hurt, you presume.  “...Now... how deep do you want me to go?”

“STARS ALMIGHTY, HUMAN...”, he whimpers, his eyes fastened on your lower stomach, and you can’t resist.

“...Deep enough for my belly to glow?”  You spread your legs and push the dildo back in, a little faster this time, and Papyrus now genuinely struggles against the strap of cloth that keeps his wrists bound behind his back.  It’s no use, of course - you have thoroughly tested that particular strap of cloth, and it held up to your scrutiny in every way.  Your skeletal lover is powerless to intervene as you push in the dildo as far as you can take it before slowly withdrawing it again and then, bracing yourself appropriately,  _violently_ pushing it back in and pulling it out again in a rhythm that matches how furious you always get fucked by the skeleton.  “ _Oh god, P-papyrus... oh sweet heaven... mmmmh!!”_   He realizes the way you’re recreating his losing control as well, and the last vestiges of shyness are blown away from his mind.  One moment, his teeth chatter and his eyes are fixed on yours; the next moment, they flit over your body, overtly appraising, and he moans out an encouragement.

“OH, HUMAN... YOU ARE TOO DAMN GOOD FOR ME... DOES YOUR LOWER STOMACH GLOW LIKE THAT WHEN I FUCK YOU, TOO?  ...I’LL B-BET IT DOES...”  It’s so hot to hear him turn from sweet and shy to sultry and seductive, and slightly foul-mouthed, and you gasp in delight.

“ _Papyrus...”_   He licks his teeth and then wiggles his tongue at you - he’s  _turning the tables_ on you, you realize, but you won’t let him get away with that.  Chuckling, you push the dildo up as far as you can take it in this pose and use the other hand to gently stroke his skull.  “...You want to play some more?”

“HUMAN, YOU SEEM INTENT ON MAKING ME SQUIRM... I JUST F-FIGURE I CAN HAVE A MORE...  _PLEASANT_ ROLE IN THE ENTIRE THING-”

“In that, you’re right, honey.”, you say, pulling his head forward unceremoniously to press against your pubic mound, and he doesn’t even pause before circling your clitoris with his tongue.  As riled as you’ve gotten so far teasing the hell out of your bony lover, that almost sets you off, but you bite your lip and resume your thrusts with only one hand, making them a little more sloppy but counterbalancing Papyrus’ light licks just fine.  “ _Oh stars in heaven...  Pappy... oh Papyrus... fuuuuuck...”_ , you whimper out, your knees feeling weak but your loins feeling taut with the tension his tongue is provoking.  In, out, in, out...

Then, Papyrus relaxes his jaw, pressing his inky blue tongue into you alongside the dildo while at the same time scraping his front teeth over your oh-so-sensitive clit and you  _arch your back_ right into it as your entire body seems to squeeze the invading piece of plastic and pull it into you further, into some hidden place inside your body that has now suddenly opened up.  Your orgasm floods through you and keeps reverberating inside of you, wave after wave after wave of heat and pleasure, and Papyrus’ tongue eagerly laps up your juices all the while before you let go of his head and he pulls back, his skull now drenched in inky magic and transparent fluid.

“HUMAN... PLEASE, UNTIE ME... I CAN FUCK YOU  _SO MUCH BETTER_ THAN SOME TOY-”, he tries, but you shake your head and step back again, though your knees feel so weak they’ll give out on you any second.  Must’ve been some new sweet spot Papyrus hit, you muse; that, or you’re more turned on than you thought initially by teasing him to this point.

“N-no... Pappy, honey... god, that was hot, and I’d love nothing more than for us to break this bed right now, but... I want you to be patient... j-just a little longer...”  You switch on the vibrator again, first at 9 to gain a loud curse, skipping back to 8 after only two seconds, then 7, then 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...  And then you switch it off and daintily leave the phone out of Papyrus’ reach on the bed, reaching for the double-ended dildo, fully intent on getting to the more interactive part of the teasing-

Suddenly, a pair of slender-boned hands grip you from behind, one of them still adorned by burning shreds of cloth, and you feel slightly proud for a millisecond.   _He burnt through the restraint!_ Then, you’re pulled on top of Papyrus and the skeleton nuzzles your neck before biting down just hard enough to leave a nice mark.  God, you love that.

“IT SEEMS YOU LIKE PUSHING ME RIGHT UP TO THE EDGE BEFORE PULLING ME BACK... AND WHILE I APPRECIATE THAT, MY HUMAN DARLING, I LIKE IT MUCH MORE WHEN YOU ARE APPROPRIATELY FILLED UP!  ...NOW... YOU HAD PLANS FOR A LITTLE CHANGE OF OUR ROUTINE, I BELIEVE?”, Papyrus croons into your ear, and you nod.  His bony fingers are skimming over your front, very ungently playing with your nipples, and you’re aching again so soon after a very mind-blowing climax.  It’d be almost shameful if this was anyone else - but it’s Papyrus, who always knows where to grope and squeeze even if he needs to be prodded to the point where he’ll do so without any reservation.  “...NO, NO, HUMAN...  _MOAN_...  AFTER ALL, YOU WERE THE ONE WHO CHOSE TO TEASE ME TO THIS POINT...”

You’re all too happy to moan and press your body into his touch.

“ _Papyrus... ohh, Pappy... oh my baby...”_   You can be wanton if he wants that.  In fact, you think as you pant in earnest while Papyrus’ hand dips down your stomach to very lightly flick your oversensitive clitoris before circling your entrance just as you teasingly did before, you want to be wanton as well.  Gods, is it ever a turn-on to push him to the point where he flips the scenario on you...

“LAY BACK, HUMAN... LEGS SPREAD LIKE THIS, OH PERFECT...”, Papyrus gently commands, and you hurry to give in to his wish, laying down with your legs propped up on the mattress, knees falling open a little to allow your skeletal lover easier access as his hand dances gently over your thighs.  Then, without warning, two of his fingers dip inside you up until the metacarpals, and you nearly shriek in joy.  Those slender, long phalanges feel like they’re going even deeper than the dildo did just now...

“ _Oh my god... s-stars, Papyrus-”_

“OH, YES, THAT IS RIGHT, HUMAN, WORSHIP ME MORE...”, he says, grinning contentedly down at you while thrusting his fingers in and out of your vagina.  The wetness that coats his fingers would have you embarrassed in any other situation, but you’re so wound up from teasing him and from him becoming so aggressive and self-assured that you look down at him happily.

When he removes his fingers from you and licks them clean,  _gods_ , you swear you nearly come again.  A second later, when those fingers press into you again along with the vibrator you’d left inside of him, you  _do_ come, quite hard at that, and Papyrus chuckles softly as he thrusts his fingers in time with the squeeze-and-relax of your inner muscles.  Once you relax again, breathing hard this time, he pulls the vibrator out of you again and shakes his head.

“YOU KNOW, I HAVE ALWAYS FOUND YOUR ANATOMY VERY FASCINATING, MY DEAREST... FOR EXAMPLE, HOW YOU HAVE  _TWO_ ENTRANCES FOR FUCKING...”  As he speaks, he allows the fingers that have just been inside of you so deeply to trail from your folds to your ass, circling your sphincter in perfect emulation of what they’d teasingly done to your entrance before.

“P-papyrus...”, you groan, still unbelievably turned on even though you’re starting to feel slightly out of your depth, “...I h-haven’t...”

“I KNOW, HUMAN... I KNOW YOU HAVE NOT YET EXPERIENCED THE PLEASURE OF HAVING SOMEONE EXPLOIT THIS OTHER ENTRANCE YOU HAVE... BUT REST ASSURED, I WILL BE GENTLE.”  His phalanges press a little harder and you find yourself reflexively tensing until he lets his tongue trail over your neck, down to your clavicle, and you groan happily.  “RELAX, MY LOVELY... I WON’T HURT YOU... I’M VERY GENTLE...”  You nod and try to muster your thoughts enough to relax consciously, but it won’t work.  “...OH, HUMAN...”  His tongue reaches your nipple and  _oh my god his thumb presses against your clit again,_ and you relax enough for the first phalanges of his fingers to press into you.  “...OH,  _HUMAN,_ YOU ARE SO MUCH  _TIGHTER_ HERE... I MAY HAVE TO REMEMBER THIS...”, Papyrus croons, laving his tongue over your nipple again the next second while increasing the pressure on his digits, allowing them to slide a little deeper, your fluids making the entire process feel almost smooth and the phalanges relatively easy to take.  Then, he slowly withdraws his fingers almost completely and then pushes them in again, pressing until they’re in until the second phalanges.  You feel stretched, a slightly uncomfortable feeling which nevertheless grows on you, and his next press inside of you has you groan.  “...DO YOU WANT MORE?”, he asks, and you carefully lick your lips before formulating an answer in your mind, but suddenly he withdraws his fingers completely and pushes in something harder, though better-shaped for the invasion.  Is that... is that the blue dildo?  It feels slick-

“ _H-h-holy shiiiiiit!”_ It  _had_ to be the cute little vibrator, of course.  Papyrus has used your distraction to pull your phone into reach, and now that he’s outfitted you almost exactly like you had teased him before, it seems he’s in the mood for sweet, satisfying revenge.

“THIS IS ONLY SETTING TWO, HUMAN... AND YOU ARE ALREADY SQUIRMING SO NICELY...”  It’s overwhelming, you find.  Your anus is certainly not used to this kind of thing, making the vibrations feel at once alien and novel in a disconcertingly  _amazing_ way.  And then the vibrations increase and you  _gasp loudly_ , prompting Papyrus to laugh.  “NYEH HEH... OH, HUMAN, I THINK THIS WILL DO SPLENDIDLY FOR THE REMAINDER OF MY PLAN TO REPAY YOU FOR ALL THIS TEASING!”  You try to speak, try to whip your mind into shape, but then, Papyrus looms over you, the phone dropping next to your head.  He’s holding that double-headed dildo and you know he intends to use it in conjunction with the vibrator, and you shiver in anticipation laced in mild worry.

“I... y-you know I  _was_ going to untie you, right, Papyrus, honey?”, you pant out, and he nods, smiling brightly down at you, making the moment all the more poignantly lustful somehow.

“OF COURSE I KNOW THAT, MY SILLY HUMAN!  BUT I DO BELIEVE YOU WANTED ME TO ONLY COME WHEN WE WERE FUCKING, SO FUCK YOU I WILL!  THOROUGHLY SO, TOO!”

You don’t really get much more warning that that before he starts pushing the double-headed dildo into your moist slit, and you arch your back.  The ridges of the life-like toy catch on your sensitive flesh, and the fullness makes the vibrations that are being sent into your lower body all the more.

“Oh shit, Pappy...”, you grind out, closing your eyes to collect your thoughts when suddenly, you feel his weight on the bed shift, then settle on either side of you.  Opening your eyes, you see him sit over you, straddling you, angling the other end of the two-sided dildo at his own cunt, which is lightly dripping inky blue fluids.  You haven’t noticed just how sopping wet he had gotten until now, but you’re given precious little time to process it: he sinks his end of the double-headed toy inside of his magic-turned-flesh with a loud moan.  “ _Oh s-sh-shiiiiit Pappyyyy...!”_   That is all it takes: a moan and the pressure of his femurs against your sides and you’re coming for the third time - no, the  _fourth_ time, wow - just from seeing him sit over you, pressing the dildo as deep inside of himself as he can.  It’s too hot, too wild, too much... his moan, his juices dribbling down the length of the dildo, the vibrator that’s still spreading shivers into your flesh, the heat and the smell of sex cocooning the both of you like a thick blanket...

“H-HUMAN... CAN I... MOVE?  OR W-WILL THAT-”  He is too precious for this world, you muse as you cut him off in a heated, breathless voice.

“ _Go on, Pappy, fuck us both hard and come with me next time...”_ He pauses, looking you right in the eyes for a second, and you wonder whether maybe you misread his arousal, maybe he isn’t as riled up as you’d aimed for...

“...IF YOU INSIST, MY DEAREST, THEN PREPARE TO SCREAM FOR ME!”  He leans back further, his lower ribs resting against your knees, and then slowly pushes himself up and then down again, the motion tentative.  It gives the toy motion, pulling it a little from your own slit as he rises and pushing it deeper than before when he lowers himself.  And the moan he lets slip - “ _OHH, HUMAN... F-FUCK...”_  - makes the entire experience feel like you’re going to be burning up.  He’s loud as you are, your moans mingling with his perfectly, like a sinful symphony, and the slick sounds of the double-headed toy sliding in and out of the both of you is the bassline, speeding up and growing louder.  You are so wet, so receptive to this, and so is he - you’d feel self-satisfied about that if you weren’t so damn into this right now.

“P-papyrus... nnngh... oh g-god...”  You tremble underneath him, arching your back and feeling your body glow with want, with need to see him reach his end the way he deserves.  “Oh s-sweet lord...!”, you whimper.  It’s too much and yet it’s not nearly enough.  You need him to climax, need him to complete this wonderful mess, this amalgamation of joy and heat and desire.  Oh, how you need it, how you ache for it.

“HUMAN... I... I WANT Y-YOU... TO... TO BE SO LOUD... I WANT YOU TO  _SHOUT MY NAME..._   _OH STARS, L-LET EVERYONE HEAR..._  STARS...”, Papyrus moans hotly, his hips moving in quick little jerks, every last twitch of them adding another fraction of an inch of depth on your side, and it still isn’t enough.  His hands frantically scramble for the phone but you reach it first and switch it to 9 before throwing the phone out of his reach, and the sudden increase of vibrations makes your entire body feel like it’s made of gelatin instead of flesh, but it  _still is not enough_.  You feel your muscles ache with tension, your heart race with frustration, your throat sore and dry from all the panting and moaning.  This is torture, the sweetest and hottest kind of torture.  “OH HUMAN, PLEASE... I WANT TO COME  _S-SO BADLY_  NOW...”  Just when you’re starting to feel sorry for pulling him away from the edge of oblivion twice, he shifts, propping his legs up and leaning back on his hands at the same time, his thrusts onto the double-headed dildo becoming  _hard_ and  _deep._ Hard and deep enough, you find, to rub your clitorises together, the friction almost painfully perfect.  It’ll only take seconds like this.  “OH ANGEL OF MERCY...”  _Milliseconds_.  “OH, S-SO HOT...”  You are filled with fire and bursting at the seams, and then Papyrus crashes his magically-created clit against yours again hard and you snap like a cheap elastic band together with him.  “OH FUCK-FUCK-FUCK _FUCKFUUUUUUUCK...!_ ”

You’re not really aware of whether you shouted his name or not, but you scarcely believe it matters.

The first thing you’re really aware of again after is the sudden empty feeling you have - opening your eyes, you see Papyrus looking at the vibrator he’s just pulled from you with a thoroughly befuddled and even slightly upset expression before walking to the bathroom with it and plunking it into the sink. The scent of MTT-Brand Disinfectant hangs heavy in the air - smells like glitter, you muse, as all of the robot’s products.  Then, Papyrus returns to get the other toys, putting them into the water as well, and finally he comes back and settles next to you on the bed, gently caressing you.

“...Mmmmh...”, you groan - you mean to speak but your throat is  _really_ achy now, and Papyrus blinks before sitting up.

“OH!  YOU DIDN’T FALL ASLEEP AFTER ALL!!  I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD STILL BE AWAKE - IT IS MUCH MORE PLEASANT TO ENJOY THE, UH... WHAT DID THAT BOOK CALL IT AGAIN?  AH YES, AFTERGLOW!  IT IS MUCH MORE PLEASANT TO ENJOY THE AFTERGLOW TOGETHER AWAKE!”, he says, blushing from beginning to end, and you smile back.  With the sexual tension gone, he’s back to his usual sweetness.  As certain as the whispers of the Echo Flowers, your skeletal lover’s teeth lovingly press against your cheek, and he nuzzles your hair.  “...I... D-DO YOU MAYBE WANT A LITTLE BIT OF WATER?  YOU DID SWEAT A WHOLE LOT, AND IT IS IMPORTANT TO STAY HYDRATED!”, he says, as if you didn’t just wake up half the hotel indulging one another.  That’s another certainty: Papyrus treating your trysts as though they’re bouts of especially vigorous exercise - which, in a way, they are, but the analogy never ceases to amuse you.  You sit up just in time for the skeleton to return from the bathroom with a glass filled with water that he hands to you ceremoniously.  “DRINK THIS DOWN!  I WILL GET ANOTHER WHEN YOU’VE FINISHED THIS ONE!”  The moment the glass is empty, he pulls it gently from your hands and walks to the bathroom to fill it again, returning three seconds later.  “...IS THIS ENOUGH, HUMAN?”

“Yeah...”, you say calmly, feeling a fuzzy and detached feeling take a hold of you.  All this tension and teasing has you tuckered out.  “...I... might actually fall asleep now, though...”, you warn Papyrus, prompting him to sigh dramatically before speaking in reply.

“OH WELL, IT CANNOT BE HELPED.  I, TOO, MAY INDULGE IN A LITTLE NAP, MY DEAR HUMAN!  AFTER ALL, I DID TELL SANS NOT TO EXPECT ME BACK TONIGHT!!”, he admits, looking away to hide his blush of shame, and you decide not to tease him about it, instead snuggling into him, pressing your shoulders against his broad ribs.  Papyrus, whenever you fall asleep, is always the big spoon, bringing a sense of security with it.  You feel yourself sink slowly into a much more soporific oblivion, and Papyrus along with you judging from the way his body seems to relax against yours, although... “...MAYBE WE SHOULD LEAVE A TIP TOMORROW, HUMAN, TO MAKE UP FOR WAKING THE ENTIRE FLOOR... WE WERE BOTH QUITE LOUD INDEED...”, he mumbles, and you snort.  You don’t feel sorry in the slightest.

 


	26. I'm gonna take you down (Underswap Papyrus solo sin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Papcest-flavored (BloodOrange - SwapPaps x FellPaps), and slightly dubcon/noncon, so be warned I guess? (it's not actually dubcon/noncon, FellPaps likes it well enough, he'd bite if he really didn't want it)

He swirled the smoke slowly from in between his teeth, watching it lazily coil and expand in front of him.  The taste of the weed was strong enough on his nonexistant palate, and he could almost feel the detachment ooze through him as he chuckled, sending out soft puffs of smoke into the already-thick air of his room.

“h-heh heh… wow, ‘s nice…”  Another pull at the blunt, another swirl of smoke, and now the mellowness flowed through him like a gentle current, from his skull down to his toes and then back up, his usual joint aches disappearing.  “oh man… luckily blue’s still trainin’ with alphys, or i’d catch hell…”, he whispered to himself, the sound of his voice deafening in the quiet of the otherwise empty house.  Then, with a satisfied groan, he lay back, his free hand resting underneath his skull.  Another pull, another swirl - the smoke took longer and longer to disappear from view, too - and then he laughed softly.  “hah hah hah!  catch hell… like it’s somethin’ you’d wanna have…  nah, blue’s… well, he may _rant_ at me for a couple of hours, but he’s not gonna do more ‘n yell my ears off.  pfffff… i don’t even have any ears, hahahahaha!”  He laughed progressively more loudly, as if the expression he’d just used was priceless, and then he sighed, intending to take another hit of the joint but finding the last remnants of it little more than burning paper that he quickly pushed out into his ashtray.  “…fuck, ‘s it… did i just let it burn out on me?”, he asked himself confusedly - the sudden cloud of smoke issuing from his mouth with every spoken word showed him just what had happened.  It took him maybe all of two seconds to burst into uncontrollable, loud and completely over-the-top laughter that had him rolling around on his bed, holding what would be his stomach as the giddiness flooded him like a torrent from the heavens.  He’d be over one fit of laughter just when the next one hit.  “hahahahahaha… t-this ‘s… pffffahaaaa… ridiculousssspfffhhhhh!”, he wheezed out in between wheezing breaths, feeling his ribs creak from the amount of strain they were in.  Then, when finally the amusement died away again, he sighed and lay back onto his back, sighing happily.  “…well wow, that’s the stuff i need… ah, it’s like i’m free… like there’s nothin’ holdin’ me back…”  There _was_ nothing holding him back, he realized with startling clarity.  His brother was out, his jobs were done for the day, his belly was filled with food, and his being was filled with intoxicants… he felt a warmth unlike any other wash over him in steady waves, relaxing and soothing him… what could possibly be missing?

An itch in his chest?

“…oh damn it…”, the tall skeleton groaned at the familiar but highly unexpected sensation.  His magic reacted to the weed, as it always did; his soul was right there, visible and sensitive, glowing softly underneath his black undershirt and turning it the exact same shade of orange his hoodie had.  It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, scintillating and warm as it was, it was just that Papyrus was never prepared for it to happen.  He always _forgot_ that smoking weed got him magically aroused.  “… _fuuuuck…_ just what i need right now, my soul actin’ up…”  But it wasn’t just his soul, too: his mind started to invent images to explain the warm, dazed feeling he had.  Like laying in a nice warm blanket.  Or underneath a nice, warm body.  Being caressed by careful hands, gliding over his shoulderblades, carefully tracing over the outside of his ribs… dipping to very lightly ghost over his spine… his tailbone… his femurs, oh god… “ _oh shit…_ ”  There was nothing for it: his soul and his mind conspired to get him high in another way as well, so what choice did he really have than to push down his cargo pants and pull up his shirt?  When he gently pressed his fingers to his soul while at the same time tracing the other hand over his pubis, his magic flared instantly in the all-too-familiar form of an ectodick, and he was somewhat grateful for that.  “…mmmnnn, ‘s easier… l-like this… oh _fuck yeah_ …”  He had to be more high than he’d bargained for from just the two joints he’d smoked - maybe the weed wasn’t that bad this time, he mused absent-mindedly before an involuntary squeeze of his hand pulled back his attention to the act of getting himself off.  “… _mmmnnn shiiiit…_ ”  He let his upper teeth graze over his lower, like a human would do to bite their lip.  “h-holy shit… ‘m really… so hot right now…”, he muttered, feeling magic slowly drip off his entire being, little sparkles of it slowly travelling over his bones.  “so hot…”, he reiterated, and then, his imagination fabricated something.

Or rather… _someone_.

Papyrus, contrary to what other people thought, wasn’t a good-for-nothing lazybones whose only redeeming feature was keeping Sans and his idealistic but slightly trigger-happy nearly-Royal-Guard enthusiasm in check.  One of the jobs he’d had in the past was as an assistant to Doctor Undyne in Waterfall - in fact, they’d been best friends until the first humans had fallen and Papyrus grew disgusted with what Queen Toriel requested of the laboratory and its employees - and one of his jobs there had been to oversee the Rips: Undyne had explained how they were ‘cracks’ in the divides between universes, allowing ‘bleed’ between worlds that weren’t meant to mix.  And one of the universes he’d observed was… well, it had proven _interesting_ , to say the least.  Undyne had called it ‘Underfell’: a universe in which monsterkind had not held onto hope but had instead turned to despair, and violence, and cruelty.  Just like every universe, it was nothing more than an imperfect mirror of their own universe - the _true_ universe, he caught himself thinking - and that meant there was a version of him there.

The Papyrus from Underfell seemed to resemble Sans more than him: wearing tough-looking armor and wielding a bone as a weapon, laughing and speaking with authority…  The other him was, there was no other word for it, _infuriating_.  His self-righteousness, his mistreatment of his brother, his outright disgust aimed at the other monsters for not measuring up to his standards…  More often than not, he’d imagined punching that inferior and worthless version of himself in the face for being such a bag of dicks.  But now?

“NYEH, YOU CALL THAT ‘HOT’?!  YOU CANNOT EVEN CONJURE A FRACTION OF THE LUST I CAN EFFORTLESSLY INSPIRE IN ANY MONSTER, EVEN A LAZY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING ADDICT LIKE YOU!  LOOK AT YOU… PANTING, WHINING… ACTING LIKE A DOG IN HEAT… SHOULD I PUT A COLLAR ON YOU AND PARADE YOU AROUND ON A LEASH LIKE A DOG?  HUH?”

“g-go fuck yourself…”, Papyrus groaned out.  Why his drug-imbued mind conjured up _that_ prick of an alternate version of himself, he didn’t know, nor did he care.  “…even t-that other papyrus… that, _nnngh_ , that naive version that’s basically sansy number two… even he ‘s a better papyrus ‘n you are… f-fuckin’ _bone cactus…_ i bet you take it up the ass, man…”  Now there was an arousing thought, Papyrus mused, grinning at the mental image.  “…seems to me you need to be taken down a peg… _get a taste of what it is you put your sans through_ …”  Imagining himself doing what that other Papyrus had done to his Sans and had threatened to do to him as well in his mind… putting a dog collar around that slender neck, fastening it tight enough to chafe on his neck vertebrae as a constant reminder of being owned… parading him around on a leash and reprimanding him like one would reprimand a misbehaving dog…  Papyrus could feel the sheer satisfaction of doing that flood him like another high.  His magic responded instantly, too: his ectodick throbbed in his hand, oozing precum, and his soul started becoming more and more liquidy under his fingertips as well.  The mental image was perfect: the Underfell version of himself struggled but was properly outfitted with the degrading piece of leather.  “…looks _right_ on you-”

“I DEMAND THAT YOU TAKE THIS OFF AGAIN THIS INSTANT!!  THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS IS NOT SOMEONE’S PROPERTY!”

“you are now, ya scarlet fucker.   _my property._ ”, Papyrus crooned teasingly, grinning when his mental image of the edgy version of himself struggled all the harder.  All of that came to an end, however, when he yanked hard on the leash.  “…hurts?  well, that’s what you subject your sans to.  i’ve seen you treat your bro like shit, man, and you think it’s only right…”

“YOUR BROTHER PROBABLY HAS YOU ON A LEASH AS WELL!  AND IF NOT, HE’S JUST WEAK GARBAGE-”  Papyrus’ fists clenched involuntarily at the thought of that _dirty rotten soulless shadow of himself_ calling his brother, his Sans, garbage, but considering where his hand was, that only served to make him groan and then change up the image.  In his mind’s eye, he cut off the other Papyrus by forcing his ectodick into that sharp-toothed mouth hard, the tip hitting the higher of those neck vertebrae the collar was fastened around.  His hold on the leash made the other Papyrus unable to pull away, therefore effectively cutting off his option to reply.

“…you look a lot better like this, fucker.  i’d say ‘eat it’ but i strongly recommend ya don’t try an’ chew.”  He imagined himself reaching into the other’s armor, plucking out the blood red soul and holding it up triumphantly.  “hehe… lookie here, ‘s already leakin’ for me… mmm, let your soul do the weepin’, and let your tongue do the work…”  Another yank on the imaginary leash around the imaginary other skeleton - his fist tightened around his magic member, squeezing hard enough to feel slightly uncomfortable, but he was too absorbed in the fantasy to really notice that.  “ _…oh fuck yeah…_ ‘s right, spiky, _suck it_ …  man, i’m so fuckin’ close… h-holy shit, man, ‘m so high off this…”  The thought of gently kneading the other Papyrus’ soul while getting him off his high and mighty pedestal was _really_ bringing him off.  His soul sparkled and squished under the rapid movements of his fingers over its surface, frantic in their search for release.  “…h-hope you’re ready…”

The look he imagined the other Papyrus to have, half loathing and half desperate for pleasure, tipped him over.  His magic literally blew up in his hands: sticky liquid colored and smelling like sweets squirted from his soul and his ectodick, soiling his bed, and the mental image was blown clean away again.  His bones clattering, Papyrus fell from his high into bliss and then into unconsciousness.

**************** **************** **************** **************** ****************

“…OH STARS ALMIGHTY, PAPYRUS… AT LEAST NEXT TIME OPEN A WINDOW, I AM DIZZY JUST INHALING THE FUMES OF THOSE CIGARETTES OF YOURS!  AND CLEAN UP YOUR BED BEFORE DOZING OFF!  EUGH, MY HANDS!”  The sound of Sans’ voice had Papyrus’ eyes shoot open.  Whatever remnants of his buzz had still been present while he slept were chased away entirely.

“s-shit, bro-”

“AND HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU?  MIND YOUR LANGUAGE!!  I DID NOT RAISE YOU TO BE SO DISRESPECTFUL AND FOUL-MOUTHED!!  …NOW CLEAN UP YOUR BED!!  I DO NOT MIND YOU TAKING YOUR SWEET TREATS UP TO YOUR ROOM WITH YOU, BUT I DO MIND YOU SQUEEZING OUT HALF A BOTTLE OVER YOUR BEDSHEETS!!”, Sans said, motioning for an empty bottle of honey that stood by the head-end of his bed, and Papyrus sighed.  Of course Sans would think it was honey.

“…fu- i mean, sorry, sansy… h-hey, uh, ‘m awake now, i’ll, uh… c-clean this s-stuff up, ‘kay?  you just, uh, wash your hands…”

“WELL, OKAY, BROTHER!  AND MAYBE CLEAN YOURSELF UP AS WELL?  THAT HONEY GOT EVERYWHERE!”  Papyrus had to will himself to mental calmth - if he blushed at that, Sans could get wise to what was actually sticking to his spine and pelvis, he wasn’t ignorant after all.  Rolling out of the bed, he covered up how uneasy he felt by lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it onto the bed, which in turn caused Sans to nod approvingly.  “YES!  IF WE ARE GOING TO BE DOING LAUNDRY TONIGHT ANYWAY, WE MIGHT AS WELL WASH THOSE DIRTY CLOTHES OF YOURS!  HOW LONG HAVE YOU WORN THEM ANYWAY?!  AND WHILE WE ARE WAITING FOR THE LAUNDRY… OH, BUT IF YOU FILLED UP ON HONEY BEFORE FALLING ASLEEP, DOES THAT MEAN YOU LEFT NO ROOM FOR A TACO?  ALPHYS AND I REFINED THE RECIPE!  THEY LOOK A LOT MORE LIKE THEY DID IN THAT BOOK NOW!!”, Sans followed up, and Papyrus chuckled.

“heh, y’know me, bro - i always got room for one of your tacos.” Sans seemed satisfied with that answer, and he walked to the door humming a happy tune.  Papyrus grinned and closed his eyes, stretching and waiting until he heard Sans’ footsteps head downstairs again.  “…man, was that weird…”, he said to himself, remembering the chain of thoughts that had led to him making a mess of his bed.  “…why the hell did i come up with _toning down that egotistical edgelord_ instead’a having a date with napstabot, that’s what any other monster would dirty their sheets with…”, he asked himself.

His imagination answered him, sounding unpleasantly much like the very monster he’d been imagining before.

“BECAUSE YOU ARE A FILTHY SINNER THAT CRAVES TO OVERPOWER THOSE HE DESPISES… NYEH, I GUESS YOU ARE A LITTLE LIKE ME AFTER ALL…”

“yeah, _in your fuckin’ dreams_ , edgy mcmurderous…”, he ground out, shaking his head a second later.  “…look at me, talkin’ to myself.  any way ya look at it.  …i’m just gonna wash up and file this under ‘my mind’s a garbage dump when i’m high’…  yeah, sounds about right…”, he told himself, walking over to the bathroom for the shower he so sorely needed.


	27. Emergency venting (Underfell Soriel sin)

“-AND DON’T BOTHER COMING BACK HOME TONIGHT, YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF SCUM-”

“oh, why don’t ya go _fuck a cactus_ , paps, y’know, cure that _damn stick up yer ass!!_ ”  Sans slammed the door behind him hard as he exited the house, ignoring the hard stomping footsteps behind him as his brother came charging after him.  Not feeling up to braving the people of Snowdin, all of whom seemed to be staring at him in annoyance for upsetting ‘the Terrible Papyrus’, he closed his eyes and pulled his magic over himself like a sheet in the familiar gesture of a ‘shortcut’, aiming almost carelessly for the very edge of Snowdin Forest.  He wanted to be out of the town, but he didn’t want to leave his familiar territory - when he opened his eyes again, he stood just a few steps away from his sentry station.  “ _…who’s he think he is anyway… fuckin’ hardass… piece of shit…_ ”, Sans ground out, sagging down behind his station, grabbing one of his squeeze-bottles of mustard sitting on the shelf just out of view from passers-by, squeezing it half empty inside his mouth and absorbing the spicy contents instantly.

The thing was, he mused, that Papyrus had absolutely _no_ reason to be angry at him.  The human had just suddenly stood in front of him, right when Papyrus had gone to deliver his report to Undyne, and none of his brother’s traps had deterred it, so he’d had no choice but to impale it with a few well-placed bone attacks!  And when it had started crying, he’d really had no other choice but to throttle it so it’d stop it’s _fucking screaming that just grated on his nerves and sounded so pathetic_ …

“…i don’t see the fuckin’ problem.  they got the soul, didn’t they?  king ass-gore didn’t have to dirty his damn hands, didn’t he?  …man, fuckin’ _undyne_ an’ her prissy ass - if it weren’t for her being king asshat’s little favorite, _pap_ would be head of the royal guard.  i’ll bet old goatfucker lays awake at night hopin’ he could bang that fishstick… how we cope with that asshole in charge, lord only knows…”, he muttered, squeezing the rest of the mustard into his mouth and absorbing it more slowly this time, organizing his thoughts.  Papyrus was livid with him, though not angry enough to come looking for him or threaten physical harm; he suspected that his brother had taken credit for his kill, and that didn’t bother him in the slightest though it did sting that nobody would know that those were _his_ bone attacks and _his_ traps.  The human being dead meant that things were a lot easier - though he was sure Alphys didn’t like having lost another human to experiment on.  And, of course, Gaster…

“man, _fuck_ gaster…”  Sans got up again, tossing the empty bottle of mustard into the air and summoning one of his blasters to disintegrate it with a loud ‘bang’.  He felt upset at the thought of the half-present Head Scientist.  Gaster was his and Papyrus’ father, but he’d turned them out of his home because ‘that’s just the way the world works, boys’, as he’d said before throwing them into a shortcut into the snow.  “fuck him an’ his asshole ‘science’, bet he gets off to that shit…”, he grumbled as he walked further into the forest, towards the edge of it.  A steep, impossible-to-scale rockface stood right there, marking the limits of their kingdom.  It did have a door cut into it, but the heavy stone slabs looked immobile and not even Papyrus could open it, so it was probably not a functional doorway.  Still, most humans he encountered seemed to end up near it - he considered the doorway a trap because of that reason.  As long as it served its intended purpose, he wasn’t about to complain.  Thinking of humans made him think back to his brother’s self-righteous anger and he gritted his teeth audibly.  “…actually, _fuck all of it_ …”, the skeleton groaned as he sagged against the wall, fully intent on talking to himself until he got an answer.

“H-hah hah… that would keep you busy…”

“oh!”, he said, instantly grinning.  He didn’t have a name for the person that answered him - scratch that, he didn’t even know if there was an actual person on the other side of that doorway.  But if he was crazy, then he at least was thankful his inner voice sounded like a woman, though nervous to the point of neurotic.  He’d once known about those kinds of mental disorders in monsters before he decided to ditch that field of study for good, since it reminded him uncomfortably of his father.  Then again, he’d only ever heard the voice in this particular spot, so unless his delusions were bound to this location, he figured he was in the clear and there was an actual person speaking to him.  “heh, heya, old lady… nah, ‘m not gonna fuckin’ do that.  i’m just pissed the hell off, ‘s all.”

“…T-that’s… no good…”, she said softly, her voice shaking, and Sans found himself sighing.

“…think we can both do with a li’l cheerin’ up, huh?  …howzabout a nice li’l joke or two to get our minds off the fuckin’ shit we gotta put up with?”, he asked, hardly surprised when the woman’s voice perked up and grew almost frantically excited.

“Y-yes!  Humor will… w-will cheer me up!!  …I… d-don’t have any good jokes but…”, she said, and Sans snorted.  She never did open up their joking sessions, but it was far from his mind to complain, he had a solid and dependable repertoire that this woman never tired of.

“’s okay, i got one… what did the rapist say to his victim?”  He was pre-emptively snickering already, the joke was that good, and the woman on the other side seemed to be grinning as well even though she didn’t yet know it.

“I don’t know, what _did_ he?”

“’go ahead, call the police - we’ll see who comes first’!”

“OHOHOHO!! That’s a good one!”  As usual, the slightly bleat-like laughter of the woman cheered Sans up as well, and he gladly allowed himself to chuckle alongside her, grinning and settling against the door a little more comfortably.  “…Wait, I think I have one now… so three vampires walk into a bar… the first one orders a bloody mary, the second one orders a bloody mary, but the third one orders hot water.  The other two vampires look at him like he’s gone crazy… and then… haha…”  The soft giggle right before the punchline made Sans’ soul grow warm in his chest again, a sensation that he’d gotten used to surprisingly quickly when it came to sitting with his ass in the snow and his back against a cold stone slab.  “…and then the third vampire pulls out a tampon from his pocket and says ‘I’m having tea’!”

“pfffahahahaha!  man, old lady, that joke’s fuckin’ wonderful!!”, the skeleton readily admitted, gripping his shirt over where his stomach would be.  On the inside, however, he felt something gnaw at his mind.  Something that he’d often thought about whenever he was sitting in that exact place, talking to the woman.  He didn’t feel at all tensed, or angry, or even mildly upset.  Just… relaxed, and _good_ if he was honest.

It was worrying, to say the least.

Once,he’d tried to bring up the fact that there was someone behind the door, someone trustworthy and okay, to his brother.  But of course Papyrus had quickly cut him down and told him not to lie.  He hadn’t tried bringing it up to anyone else anymore, and that made it all the more powerful.  It was a secret.

Secrets were valuable in a world that had only despair and fuckery.  And this one?  This secret, this glowing feeling of relaxation and almost glowing warmth he got when he talked to this woman that he only knew by voice?  Nothing could be more valuable to him.  And that frightened him.  Because everything valuable was also something he could lose.

He didn’t want to lose this woman that shared his dark sense of humor.

“…You’re very quiet.  Are the jokes not helping?”, the woman asked, and Sans blushed softly before grinning and straightening himself.  His brother maybe didn’t know about this lady that he was slowly but surely developing a thing for, but Papyrus’ motto - ‘TRUST ONLY YOURSELF AND YOUR INSTINCTS’ - still held true even without him knowing.  His instincts were telling him this was good and wholesome.

“…yeah, they’re helpin’, old lady… i was just thinkin’ about how strange it is that talkin’ to you is the only time i don’t feel like going apeshit to anyone for bein’ such a fuckin’ loser.”

“Hah, I assure you, my fucking is very good.”, the woman said, and Sans’ soul pulsed _hard_ in his chest.  Did she just… make a joke using his words, turning them dirty?  And was he really, actually, turned on by that?  “O-oh… I… I’m sorry, that was a bit-”, she started, but Sans cut her off, shivering though not because of the cold.

“i’ll bet it is, bet it’s the best… bet you don’t need to fuck a red pepper to be fuckin’ hot…”  He _was_ turned on by that, by the salacity of her joke.  And even if he weren’t, her soft laughter and the heated lilt in her tone as she responded were enough to rouse his magic from his bones.

“You know, I’d let you do anything to me, but just so you know… if you’d eat me out you’d make my day, but it’d be even better if we could do anal, that’d make my _hole weak_ …”

“stars, lady…”  Sans’ shorts were glowing like a lantern in the twilight, but there was no one around to see it, no one to notice him stroking his slowly forming magic leisurely through the fabric.  “…y’know… i’ll bet you suck even better ‘n life does.”

“…Mmm, oh… w-well, _I_ ’m willing to bet your name is Phil, because that’s what you’d do to me if you were on the other side of this door.”, she retaliated, and Sans groaned, pulling his shorts down and stroking his magic-formed dick with one hand, the other scraping over the stone of the door.

“lady, if i was there, you wouldn’t be talkin’ right now ‘cause the only thing comin’ over your lips would be _me_ … stars al-fuckin’-mighty…”  Leaning his skull back in order to hear her voice better, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest to hear the woman moan unsubtly on the other side of the door, clearly indulging herself much like he was.

“You must be a farmer…   _Ahhhh…_ b-because I have something that needs to be plowed and then filled with your seeds…”  Sans’ motion faltered at that for a second, the words so unbelievably hot that he had to grit his teeth and ground himself, scratching the rough porous surface of the stone doorway with his metacarpals.

“ _fuckin’ a_ you need to be plowed… an’ yeah, you’d better call me a cowboy ‘cause i wanna ride you into the sunset.”  He flicked his thumb idly over the tip of his cock, staining his fingers pink with his precum and managing to pull at the piercing he had but paying it no heed.  All that mattered to him at the moment was getting off to the mixture of crude humor and actual sexy imagery this woman was spinning for him.  He imagined them sitting face to face, telling each other dirty jokes and slowly crawling closer, their groins and chests glowing with their excitement, before they’d reach each other and tear off clothing for a fuck that’d make heaven feel like a monster school field trip.

“Oh… mmmh… y-you m-must be a water elemental… because I’m s-so damn wet, oh stars…”, the woman said shakily, and true to her statement Sans could hear soft almost viscous sounds accompany her moans, which in turn led to him tightening his hand around his magical length and conjuring up an answer to the woman’s statement.  The added friction drove him up the wall, however, so it took him a full minute of panting and cursing between tightly clenched teeth to find a suitable reply.

“w-well… y-you must be a great alarm clock… y-you got my dick up and ready like… like… _oh fuck_ …”  He couldn’t finish the thought, but he didn’t need to, because the woman was now panting hard, the wet sounds having become louder and more rhythmical.  Sans could easily guess what she was doing behind that door: legs spread, she was probably fucking her own fingers just as hard and deep as she wanted him to be fucking her.

“ _Ohhh god…_ ”, she whimpered, and Sans gritted his teeth so hard he could feel one of them wobble in his mouth.  He was close, so close… and effortlessly, he spoke up again.

“n-nah, name’s sans, but i appreciate the thought.”

“ _Oh Sans, oh Sans… I’m coming, coming, ohh-!!_ ”  He could hear the woman’s loud cry of his name, her subsequent moans and the scraping sound of her nails scratching over her side of the door, and that did it for him, too: with a muffled ‘ _fuck!!_ ’, his magic dick sprayed glowing red liquid over the snow in front of him, his bones rattling against the door as if he was caught in a snowstorm. Riding out his lust into his hand, imagining that it was the woman’s luscious and receptive body he was driving into instead, he let his magic wear itself out before collapsing back against the cold, immovable sandstone, panting and feeling like he’d just ran a mile.  His magic had fizzled away again in the meantime, and he awkwardly pulled his shorts up again, thankful that none of his magic fluids had left any stains.  Papyrus didn’t need to know about this.   _Nobody_ needed to know about this.

“…well, _stars al-fuckin’-mighty_ , lady, you sure know how to get a man off…”, he admitted, and the woman on the other side groaned softly before answering his sentiment.

“Why, th-thank you…  So, _Sans_ …  Do you tell those things to _all_ the ladies you joke with?”  It was probably supposed to be a joke as well, but to Sans it felt more desperate and pleading than anything else, so he snorted.

“depends, d’you fingerfuck yourself for _all_ the guys that come knockin’ on your door?”  For a second or two, silence hung heavy over him, and then Sans heard her sigh, followed by the rustle of cloth.

“…I have never been more enraged about this door being here.  With you by my side, things would be… _better_.  It is so lonely here, and… and eternity without someone by your side is…”  Something about that pulled at Sans’ heart.  He, too, had felt alone when Gaster had kicked him and Papyrus out, when his brother had been forced to grow up prematurely and develop that nasty temperament of his because Sans was unable to…  He’d felt so alone, so lost…  Suddenly, he understood why this woman meant so much to him, and why he felt so relaxed and good in her presence.

It was because with her, there was no need for a front.

“…i hear ya, old lady.”, he said, sighing when he heard briskly running steps come his way.  They weren’t Papyrus’ heavy footfalls, but the quick patter of dog paws - so his brother hadn’t even come down in person to continue their shouting match, instead sending one of his lackeys to do his dirty work for him.  Well, they’d be in for it, he’d have them chasing ghosts the rest of the night while he lay safely in his bed.  “…look, i, uh… gotta go now, but-”

“I know, I hear them too.  I… do hope you’ll come back soon, Sans.”, she said, and Sans laughed, mirthlessly but with all the warmth he’d amassed that night.

“wild dogs couldn’t keep me away from ya, old lady-”

“…Toriel.”  He’d already gathered his magic for his ‘shortcut’, but it fell away from his grasp as he heard that soft-spoken name, echoing in his skull like the most precious memory.  Then, he grinned and nodded.

“toriel.  well, see ya soon, tori…”  He teleported himself into his room, figuring Papyrus would have retired for the night already.  Sitting down on his more-or-less comfortable mattress, he gently rubbed a finger over his teeth, wedging the loose one further out of its place and eventually resorting to just pulling it out.  It didn’t even snap anymore - and even if it had, he wouldn’t have felt the pain, he thought.  “…toriel…”, he whispered to himself, “…what a great name for a great lady…”


	28. Can't sleep don't sleep (Horrortale Soriel sin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horrortale belongs to [Sour Apple Studios](http://sour-apple-studios.tumblr.com).
> 
> This fic belongs to [a tumblr Duelist](http://texastoaster.tumblr.com).

“ugh...”  Sans slouched onto the surface of his sentry station, tired beyond measure.  The itch on the inside of his left eyesocket was more intense than ever, but he couldn’t be assed to scratch anymore.  He’d been scratching for _years_ without any effect other than wearing the bone thin.  Chips of it would flake off, getting caught between the veins of the wood of his sentry station, and he’d stopped brushing them away so vigorously so now they were in there permanently, a constant off-white reminder that he had worn himself thin and brittle with scratching and his need for blood.  He didn’t even know how he could feel something so... _stupid_ as an itch, anyway.  It wasn’t as if he felt the pain of the flaking, or the throb of his headwound.  In fact, apart from the itch, all he felt was _dullness_ and _weariness_ as his days dragged on and on and on.  Nothing but grey and white and red.  Capture a human, kill the human, cart off the soul to Undyne.  Then again with the next human, and the next, and the one after that... an endless cycle of killing, violence, and pain.  The corpses were theirs to keep as trophies, but the skeletal brothers ended up using them in much more sinister ways - or, well, _Papyrus_ did, anyway.  The first one, he’d dressed up in a pretty sheet he’d uncovered from a demolished house in Snowdin, parading the lifeless body around as if it was still a living, breathing human. Whether due to insanity or the desperate illusions of a mind too innocent for bloodshed, Papyrus had refused to believe that the human was dead.  Sans had ended up throwing her off the edge of the waterfall in frustration.  The second human, Papyrus had cooked into spaghetti - they’d been dead even before his brother could use his ‘expert capturing skills’ and that had convinced the tall skeleton that he needed to take proper care of the next human, and what better way than to feed them _their own_?  It was little to no surprise that the next human passing through took one look at the spaghetti and came to him - and how was Sans supposed to know it could no longer do the damn puzzles without a head?!  “ _...ugh..._ ”, he groaned again, getting up from his chair and walking off into the forest.  He knew abandoning his post to go and have a catnap was tantamount to treason and could get his head underneath the axe _again_ , but at this moment he didn’t feel up to caring.  “...’s not like my bro minds anymore... an’ not like we’re not already on the hit list right now...”, he mused off-handedly.

It had all started with the human, Sans mused.  That ratty-looking wisp of a thing, shaking and shivering, clearly exhausted worse than him and Papyrus - and clearly more hopeless than the both of them combined, too.  She’d looked at him and had warily kept her distance; she’d looked at Papyrus and ate his spaghetti, even knowing what the ingredients for it had to be since she had kept whispering ‘please forgive me, please forgive me’ into nothingness as she passed him by after that, on her way to her ‘imminent capture’.  Papyrus’ like for puzzles at its best, Sans mused with a snort as he pushed aside the vines near the heavy stone door.  That door in itself brought back memories of a different kind: memories of tears, of harsh words, of disbelief... and underneath those memories, the bittersweet recollection of what could’ve been love.  That latter thought made Sans huff out a breath and trace his fingers over the edges of the hole in his skull.  Love... what place was there even left for love?  Well, apart from the twisted kind of love, the kind that his brother still harbored towards humans.  Papyrus and that ratty-looking human he so adored were... somewhere, talking about puzzles and home and spaghetti.  Maybe his brother was braiding her hair.  Maybe he was giving her more of the spaghetti.

Maybe he was making _her_ into spaghetti now?

“...would save us all a lot of pain if he did that.  i mean, not like there’s much meat on those bones, but...”, he said, sinking down against the stone.  Then, he thought of something else: the human had come from here.  She’d found Toriel, escaped from her - the singemarks on her dress were telltale - and had ended up in _their_ capable hands instead.  “...i wonder what tori did to make her so spooked...”, Sans mused out loud, closing his eyes in a feeble attempt to conjure sleep.

“...does it matter, my friend?”

Instantly, Sans shot up from the cold ground, turning around with his cleaver in his hand.  The door was open just wide enough for Toriel’s arm to be able to get outside, but he still felt wary.  Toriel hadn’t called him ‘friend’ in years, not since he’d been honest about the way things had changed in the underground.

“t-tori... nice of ya to, uh, stroll by...”

“Y-yes... I heard noise and hoped it might be A-aliza.”  It took Sans a while to figure out that she has to be talking about the human, and he instantly snorted when he did.

“Hopin’ for a nice li’l mom-and-kiddo chat?”

“...I know better than that now.”, Toriel said with a bitterness in her voice that rubbed Sans the wrong way; with a shock, he conjured up why it felt so wrong to hear the boss monster speak with such a tone.  It wasn’t because she was being hateful to him - gods, she had every right to be, he caught himself thinking...

It was because _he_ made her bitter.

Over the course of the years - so many years that they blended into a dull streak of violence and hatred and killing - he had taught himself not to regret.  The gaping wound in his skull and the constant itching of his eyesocket were firm reminders of what the previous human had brought to the underground: nothing but misery, despair, and the perpetuation of their hopelessness.  That one human had nullified all their careful work.  The six souls they’d gathered over those many years had gone; the king was dead; the underground fell into despair, and chaos, and into _Undyne’s iron fist_.  At first, her oaths of vengeance upon the humans had inspired something in the monsters, a kind of cohesion that was enough for a year, or two, even five.  But not ten.

Let alone however long they’d already been stuck in the underground.

So Undyne’s rule became more unjust by the day, and monsters that voiced dissent started to disappear.  Sans had voiced dissent as well, unthinkingly - it had ended his skull up on the chopblock, but he’d survived the ordeal somehow.  At least, he’d woken up with a meat cleaver in his skull and a note from Queen Undick next to him saying in the scratchiest handwriting ‘ _You’d better thank your brother for every second of the agonizing rest of your miserable life, worm’_ , and Papyrus had taken up service in the ranks of the Royal Guard, and life had turned hellish.  Papyrus, innocent and sweet Papyrus, had become what he was now: a hellish but simple brute, just as capable of killing humans as he was of making spaghetti.  Undyne treated him badly, but he told himself over and over that it was just the stress of ruling; the other monsters of Snowdin disappeared one by one, and he told himself that they were enjoying a vacation.  His mind was either unspoiled by the bloodshed or gone - Sans knew it was a waste of his time and energy to hope for one over the other, and the oldest of the two skeleton-brothers already had so little hope left...  So he had done the only thing he could still think of doing.

He had told it all to Toriel.

He’d foolishly shared the goings-on with the former queen candidly, expecting... well, he’d expected her to break down, but he had definitely not bargained on her going completely batshit insane.  She’d taken the news and had started crying.  Then laughing.  Then telling him how she still felt their presence - the humans, the six that had fallen before that one kid.  They whispered to her, she said, in the night, telling her not to let anyone else pass.  Telling her all that would happen was suffering.  Sans agreed, but that only seemed to drive her further into her delusional idea, so he withdrew, completely alone.  He couldn’t make out whether Papyrus was innocent or insane, which was awful; he _could_ tell for Toriel, which was horrible.

“...Sans, you’re very quiet.  And yet... and yet you are not asleep.”, Toriel spoke slowly, jarringly, and Sans looked through the door to see her pale eyes almost glowing in the dark.  He gritted his teeth and traced a hand over the edge of the hole in his skull, the pain that brought connecting him back to the moment so he could answer.

“...yeah.  neither are you, though, tori.”

“I... fall asleep to nightmares, Sans.  Nightmares that last for hours, seemingly days and weeks.  Did I not tell you this before?”, Toriel said, and now Sans genuinely straightened himself, stepping closer to the door again to properly read Toriel’s face.  Of course she’d have nightmares, he mused.  She had been spared the initial, slow-growing despondency that had swept through the underground, but when he’d spoken to her, he’d opened the floodgates and drove her to delusions, probably due to her trying to cope with the pain.

“...uh... t-there wasn’t much room for tellin’ me, tori.  we kinda... don’t talk anymore, remember?”  ‘Talking’ wasn’t really the term for what they had done back in the beginning, and the combination of her insanity and his guilt had kept Sans away after that.  However, Toriel seemed oblivious.

“I... don’t we?”  Now Sans was genuinely intrigued.

“...no.  you... you an’ me, we haven’t talked since that night... ya remember?”

“I... remember talking to you, but after that I... dreamt, no?”, Toriel asked, and Sans blinked, now stepping within reach of her.

“...tori, you’re pullin’ my leg, right?  you... don’t ya remember anything?”, he asked, and he found himself hoping for Toriel to open her hand and shoot fire from her palm, but she reached for him desperately and pulled at his scapula.

“...Sans, I remember... mostly I remember missing you.  But... well, you did say the underground has turned very bleak over the years... so I guess you had... a lot of other things on your mind...”, she muttered, her eyes fastening on him - and then they widened and the goat-monster gasped.  “I remember your head!  Y-your wound!  Oh stars, Sans, i-is it still hurting?  Last time it was bleeding-”

“h-heh, told ya, that was just ketchup, tori...”, Sans said, relaxing a little.  So she still remembered that conversation, she’d just needed time to mentally adjust to the new situation.  It wasn’t full insanity.  The thought wasn’t a hopeful one, not by a long shot - it didn’t change the bleakness of their situation, after all - but it was the first non-depressing thought he’d had in a long time, so his smile felt a little more genuine.  “...i-it’s fine now...”

“...Sans... last time... you said something...”, the former queen said, prompting Sans to look at her with his one red eye, feeling his soul freeze in his ribcage.

“i, uh, said a lot of things last time...”, Sans said, wanting to take a step back but finding that he couldn’t manage to do so, not even if he could wrestle himself free from Toriel’s grasp.  The look in her eyes had something pleading, something wounded and afraid, something he didn’t like seeing in her.  It made him feel fierce, like when the human - Aliza, he corrected - had looked at him after the mention of a monster cutting off humans’ heads.  He’d killed the girl without a second thought, and Papyrus had called out to him loudly but he’d forgotten about it again the next time, and the time after that...  Sans supposed it was a punishment for his laziness in stopping the human that had gone on to kill Asgore, but he remembered everything, even when the other monsters did not.  Everything that happened when there was no human around was saved, and everything that happened until the human got sent to Queen Undick was a path of trial and error, and lots and lots of resets.  And every reset made the itch on the inside of his eyesockets grow.  But now, he felt a dizzy suspension similar to when a reset took place, only without the itch - and, of course, the human was still very much alive, though in Papyrus’ clutches.  What was causing this?  Was it Toriel?  Was she pulling at his soul?  And if so, what for?

“...You said you wished the ruins were wide open so you could... be with me.”, Toriel elaborated, and Sans exhaled the breath he’d been holding, nodding softly.  So it wasn’t any of the other things he’d said, about the murder, the bloodshed, the panic, the disillusion, the underground-wide panic and disorder... it was about feeling so damned alone and wretched.  About feeling something that could’ve been love - that _could be_ love, he corrected.

“tori... i still kinda wish that.  i mean, you, uh... you took all the rest pretty hard, but i’d like to think-”

“Come here, then.”, he was interrupted mid-sentence, and all he could do was stare at Toriel.  She looked back, her eyes swirling like the void of space, filled with stars that shone coldly from within her depths.  “This door won’t stop you, Sans.  Not you.”

“...uh... i, uh, wish i could just step through stone-”, Sans commented, but Toriel pulled him closer and he found that his bones squeezed in between the vines and the heavy stone slabs, compressing until it was almost painful but then sliding slowly through and retaking their previous shape with a soft ‘clack’ from each vertebra and each rib as it slid back into place.  He meant to react in anger, just as he would’ve done with anyone else, but one look at Toriel made all of his rage flow away and he turned downright meek.  “-well damn...”

“...I... I’m sorry... it opens from the inside, but the vines-”, Toriel started, but this time Sans cut across her.

“hey, no worries, ‘s okay.  ...you, uh, sure are eager to get me here.”

“Sans, I’ve been trapped in these Ruins for only the stars know how long, with nothing to do but sleep and have awful dreams... I’d like to use my time awake _wisely_.”  She didn’t continue, but Sans could tell what she was thinking and he felt a jolt of magic rush through his system.  It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t been thinking about her all through those years: sure, he’d missed their conversations, but he’d also missed the warmth of her voice and the rush of magic, that scintillating feeling in the depths of his soul, when talking to her.  He’d missed it for so long he’d convinced himself it was an illusion, a thing of the past... but now, it was back, and he knew it was real.

And he would not give it up again, not ever.

“tori...”, Sans started, looking for words to cement the moment, to make it real and manageable in his head, but then Toriel leaned into him and he kissed her.  And his soul blazed up in his chest, the color of old wine.  It was a greedy kiss from both sides: Toriel and Sans both seemed to want to absorb as much as they could of one another through their mouths, and a second later their tongues.  When they parted again, both were breathing hard even though monsters, and especially skeletons, didn’t need to breathe.  “tori... holy stars...”

“I... t-that was rather... better than I’d imagined...”, the former queen stammered out, her cheeks flushed with color that made her eyes look all the more pale in the dim light that fell through the opened door.

“...yeah, you’re tellin’ me.  tori, i can’t...”  Sans’ head was still spinning, and that didn’t improve when Toriel slowly pushed down the straps of her dress, baring her body to him.  Sans had had dreams, wishful and heated dreams, about what the woman on the other side of the door would look like, but none of those could compare to this body of pure white fur, shining from within.  Magic began to ooze within him, making his bones shiver, the dull red glow growing more and more luminescent - like fresh blood oozing through old, crusted wounds.  Sans felt worried for a second, but then lust took over again and he groaned happily.  “ _t-tori, holy shit...”_

“You... like what you see, do you not?”, she asked slowly, hesitantly, and Sans groaned, pressing his entire form against hers.

“stars yeah...”  He kissed her again and pushed her gently down against the cold stone floor, sitting up over her and looking her over.  “...i could look at you for days an’ never get tired.”

“W-well, looking at me is r-rather nice, but... but wouldn’t you prefer more?”, she reacted lightly, though she blushed very faintly as she spoke, prompting Sans to grin.

“thought ya’d never ask.”  His hands had been itching to touch her at any rate, so giving in to the impulse was easy.  Raking his hands over her sides, then her chest, prompting a loud and very satisfied sigh, he found himself grinning all the more hotly down at her.  “god, tori, your body ‘s like a furnace...”

“...I was going to say the same of your hands... y-you’re lighting me on fire, Sans...”, the goat-monster spoke softly, pushing herself up into his touch eagerly.   And when he squeezed her breasts with the same amount of passion she mustered, she moaned loud enough for it to echo in the empty hallways.  “ _Oh S-sans..._ ”

“f-fuckin’ hell, tori... you’re one hell of a lady...”

“A-and you’re... not much of a gentleman...”, she said - Sans worried again for a second until she put her paw over the front of his frayed shorts and squeezed the magic that had pooled and taken shape there, prompting a loud hiss from the skeletal monster.

“ _stars fuckin’ almighty, toriel...!_ ”

“Oh, Sans... I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so ready for me...”, the monster crooned happily, eagerly caressing his magic-turned-flesh that felt like it was made of liquid fire as she did.  Sans couldn’t help but moan.

“tori... jeez, h-how could ya blame me?  besides...”, he added, grinning as he let his hand wander from her hip to her inner thigh and then upwards, unsubtly pressing his fingers into her folds and the wetness that met them, “...guess i’m not the only one that’s ready...”

“Sans, I...  I d-did not always wake up from _n-nightmares..._ ”, Toriel admitted, groaning when Sans didn’t relent with his assault on her privates.  “ _Oh my stars...  S-sans..._ You are a dream come true... a-and despite how bleak it is out there, a-and in here...”  She drew a shuddering breath, and Sans felt her magic and his magic pull at one another, ending him up leaning over her slightly awkwardly, giving up the contact with her nethers just to hear her whisper: “ _...my dreams of you are never bleak and colorless..._ ”

Whatever reservations Sans still had shattered, crumbled to dust.  Because it was true.  Whenever he thought of Toriel, color seemed to return to the world around him.  Whenever he’d had his own dreams about the goat-monster, feverish and heated though they sometimes got, they were always warmer and clearer than the day-to-day world had become.  And that realization made his soul bleed magic like the waterfall gushed thick, muddy water from it.  He didn’t reply to Toriel’s statement, not immediately anyway: instead, he kissed her fiercely and hungrily, his tongue dancing over and around hers, seemingly trying to absorb as much of her taste as possible. And when he pulled away again because his head spun so badly, Toriel looking up at him with that blazing, glowing look that he loved so sinfully much, he found the answer he needed.

“tori, _i ain’t never gonna wanna just dream of ya, not anymore._ ”  He stepped off and away from her, quickly discarding his clothes - his hands shook, his bones rattling like sticks being tossed around, but he still managed to get himself bared to the woman of his dreams in record time.  His magic, shaped unmodestly, glowed bright enough to illuminate the room, and yet Toriel looked into his eyes lovingly, and his soul fluttered loud enough to be heard around the entire Underground, he was sure.  “l-lay back... damn, lay back...”, he warned, and Toriel complied, already spreading her legs apart, which made it easier for him to step towards her and sink to his knees before roughly sheathing himself inside her with one deep thrust.

A thrust that made both monsters shake and gasp.

“ _Oh m-my sweetest stars, Sans...!_ ”, Toriel moaned, wrapping her legs around Sans’ body, spurring him on with her heels, but the skeleton wasn’t about to let her dictate the pace, not if he had a much better idea.  Grinning and sweating, his headwound aching because of the magic now coursing through and over his bones, he pushed Toriel’s legs up and held them in place with ease, using them as leverage so he could pull back and then thrust into her again hard, prompting a heated and breathless repeat of those same words: “ _O-oh my sweet everlasting stars, Sans!_ ”

“t-tori... b-babe-”

“ _Y-you should... mmmmh... you should call me... ‘babe’... f-from now on..._ ”, the boss monster interrupted him in a husky tone, prompting Sans to shudder and, with a loud clatter of his bones, redouble his rhythm to furious but pleasurable hard, deep thrusts, robbing all other words from her lips and from his mind.  Instinct took over: he would call it ‘carnal’ if that word fit monsters even remotely, since they were made up of magic, but it was rough, primal... Sans groaned and grunted as he satisfied his base desires, thrusting into Toriel’s receptive body, his hold on her legs shaking but never faltering, fingers dug into her fur and skin hard enough to leave bruises on any lesser monster; Toriel arched her back and rocked back into his motions eagerly, mewling and panting hard...

But it wasn’t all lust.  Because Sans looked down at Toriel and, for the first time in a long time, saw the colour of rich soil in her eyes, smelled the scent of cinnamon on her, felt the coarseness of her fur underneath his metacarpals, tasted her on his tongue, heard her pants and whimpers and the flutter of her soul so close to his own...  Everything he could perceive was Toriel, pushing back all else, until he felt like he was sinking into her, into that welcoming warmth and the safety of her embrace, and he felt okay with that.  And the way she panted his name in between thrusts told him that she wanted him for so, so much more than just a quick release.  She wanted him to stay, wanted him to keep her company... and he would oblige all too happily.  After all, apart from keeping an eye on Papyrus, what did he still have out there?

When the tension started becoming too much, he looked down into her eyes and groaned out half-pleadingly and half-assertively.

“f-fuckin’ gonna...  tori, shit... c’mon...”

“ _Oh Sans, oh Sans, Sans, oh, **oh stars Sans...!**_ ”  Her eyes looked into his for just a split second, but that was all it took for him to cement his earlier resolve to never let her go again.  Gripping her hips, he found his rhythm faltering and his magic bursting from him in wave after shocking wave of blood red.  Toriel was half a step behind him, her body seizing up, muscles undulating around his magic-created length and milking him of all of the fluids that spilled from him.  Even though her body gripped him, however, he continued to ride out his high into her, moaning her name over and over and over.

“fuck, fuck, tori, oh fuck, oh tori, babe, tori... tori...”  Then, once his magic was completely out of his worn-out grasp, he finally let go of her legs and scrambled away from his awkward sitting position behind and slightly over her to allow the woman to get up, but she didn’t.  Instead, she sat up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him gently but inexorably towards herself so she could kiss him.  “...tori...”, he sighed out, and she fixed him with a deep, poignant look.

“Sans... you’ve always been truthful to me... please, be truthful again now.  T-the nightmares... they aren’t... _nightmares_ , are they?”  For a second, maybe even less than that, Sans considered lying to the woman.  He’d gotten so used to lying, and presenting a front, and keeping his thoughts inside that thick skull of his...  But Toriel’s eyes seemed to burn into him in a pleasant, alluring way, and he found his words become heavy but unspoiled by lies or deception.

“...tori, ya... when ya think it’s just a nightmare, you’re really awake, an’ livin’ on autopilot.  doing what’s told to you by the voices in your head - you say they’re the old kiddos’ souls, but i think they’re not.  those kiddos... they would never wanna see another kid hurt.  they’d plead with you to keep ‘em with you.  ‘specially knowin’ how it’s like out there...”, Sans admitted, and Toriel was quiet for the longest time before nodding shakily.

“...I... understand.  Sans-”

“i can’t-”, Sans started, fully intent on saying he couldn’t help her, but then she cut him off, and her words made him take a step back in shock.

“Sans, _trust her._ ”

“w-what?”

“Trust Aliza.”, Toriel elaborated, smiling brightly, her eyes and her voice conveying that light, uplifting emotion that Sans still recognized as hope, even though it hurt to consider it.  “...S-she... she is doing so well...  She is doing just as well a-as-”

“don’t say that name.”, Sans cut her off, but he had to admit that this was going exactly as it had gone before the killing of Asgore.  The human escaping from Toriel’s attack, finding him and Papyrus in Snowdin Forest, befriending his big naive brother...  And then, the continuation of the story came to mind, and Sans nodded.  “...tori... i don’t know if it’s possible, but i’ll try.  if there’s one kiddo that i wanna see safe from queen undick the undenying, it’s _your_ kiddo... aliza...”, he corrected himself, prompting a smile from Toriel.

“...I believe I will sleep again... and I think I may even sleep _soundly_  and _without nightmares_ knowing that you are out there, watching over the child...”, she said - she didn’t ask him to stay, she didn’t ask him if he’d be back, and Sans nodded, not offering an answer to the questions she hadn’t posed either.

“...you can count on me, tori... _babe_...”, he added, and that sentiment got him another heated, demanding kiss that had his magic swirl around him in a thick, blood red cloud.  But this time, the hunger was not there, and so when they parted again, he just grinned at the woman, who spoke pleadingly.

“...Come back to me.  I know you can do it.  Now that you’ve been here, you can... return here, without having to pass the door, no?”

“heh, no sweat.”, Sans admitted, watching Toriel put on her dress once more.  It took him two seconds and the sudden realization that Papyrus would probably want him to read Aliza and himself a bedtime story to grab his own clothes and put them on again, after which he turned to Toriel.  “...tori, i-”

“I know, and I feel exactly the same, Sans, darling.”, the goat-monster said, her eyes pale again but the light in them no dimmer than it had been when they’d still been entwined, and Sans could feel his soul push against his ribcage.

“god, babe... well, i can stick around a li’l longer when the kiddo’s safe and sound  - better make like a bad egg an’ get _crackin’_ , then...”, he admitted, walking towards the door, pushing it open with ease though he still had to sidle through it carefully.  Once he was out in the snow again, the door fell shut behind him and the vines tightened immediately, locking him out, but to Sans that was of less importance.

There was a kind of eerie comfort in the fact that, no matter how much the Underground had changed since that other human kid, the most important things had not.  Like Papyrus’ kindness towards humans, like his own skillset...

Glancing back, he added the thought that he had dismissed for so long: like his love for Toriel.

And just like that, as he stepped down the familiar path to his hometown, to his brother and the human child that Papyrus so doted over, the itch in the inside of his eyesocket was gone and forgotten.


End file.
